


Leather and Lame

by CGotAnAccount



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Disaster gay Shiro, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, SHEITH - Freeform, Shenanigans, Slow Burn, keith is not cool, oblivious idiots, or at least a sputtering fire with no accelerant used, pidge is done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-26 19:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16687915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: Shiro had to bite back his giggles as he looked around the parking lot, still empty in the early afternoon.“So, tell me again, how did Pidge end up working at a biker themed drive-in?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Updates in tiny chunks, pretty regularly :)

Shiro had to bite back his giggles as he looked around the parking lot, still empty in the early afternoon.

“So, tell me again, how did Pidge end up working at a biker themed drive-in?”

Matt threw him a smirk, eyebrows wiggling, “Mom made her get a job to curb her 'anti-social tendencies' and she's been banned from the library.” The air quotes just added to the gleeful brotherly sadism. “Her friends already worked here, so it was their compromise.”

Shiro cocked an eyebrow as they trudged across the asphalt into the covered patio that was scattered in paint spattered picnic tables. “And... why did her friends work at a biker themed drive-in?”

Matt shook his head, waving a dismissive hand. “Short version: Hunk can cook, Lance can flirt, Pidge can count money, and their boss Coran pays too much.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, “I think Keith got strong-armed into it later when everyone else worked there.”

“Ah.” Shiro nodded sagely, as if he knew who any of those people were.

Matt gave him a look and snickered. “Don't worry Shiro, we'll be in and out before you know it.” He pulled an orange and gray cell phone out of his pocket and wiggled it in Shiro's face like the cat that got the cream. “Just need to drop this off and confirm Pidge owes us for life.”

Shiro laughed and shook his head as he grabbed the door and ushered Matt inside. It was blessedly cooler inside without the sun beating down on the practically boiling tarmac. The dim lighting was such a change that it took him a minute to get his bearings, but he had to stop himself from laughing out loud when he did.

The walls were darkly stained panels covered in various gang patches and decorative motorcycle parts. There were a few booths scattered around the edges but it was pretty clear that it was meant to be an outdoor dining establishment. There was even a garage style roll-up wall that was currently down, showcasing an enormous spray painted mural of a winged heart and crossed swords. The wall behind the bar was covered in similar framed artwork, some old-school tattoo style, but much of it stylized flowers and knives.

A lanky man with an impressive mustache was wiping down the polished bar top, perking up when the door chimed.

“Ahoy, Holt Number 1!” He lifted the bar rag in greeting, waving them over and extending his hand to Shiro. “And Holt friend number...!” He eyed Shiro critically to the top of his head before excusing himself. “Just a minute actually!” He disappeared back inside for a moment before bursting back in the swinging doors, dragging a resigned man in an apron by his wrist.

“Really Coran?” The man sighed, peeling off his gloves as he adjusted his yellow headband. “Are we going to do this every time?”

Coran herded the man to stand next to a bewildered Shiro as Matt grinned and plunked himself down on a stool. “We have to defend your title Current Number 1!”

The man offered a hand to Shiro, “Hunk.”

“Uh, Shiro.” Shiro shook his hand, shooting a questioning glance back at the excited man who was making faces at the tops of their heads.

Hunk just sighed and shrugged. “We're ranked by height.” He jolted at a poke to the ribs, scowling down at Coran.

“Hmmm.....” Coran squinted between the two before yanking Shiro's arm into the air. “A new Champion!” Shiro looked desperately to Matt for help only to find him slumped over the bar giggling.

“The Champion!” Matt cheered, sliding another stool out with his foot and dragging Shiro down onto it. Pidge popped out of the kitchen at the commotion, eyebrow raised.

Matt slid off the barstool and gave her a smug look. “Hey squirt, forget something?”

She rolled her eyes at him, patting the pockets of her uniform, a plain black shirt and jeans with a bandanna, before thrusting her hand out toward Matt. Matt dangled the phone teasingly out of reach as she lunged before tossing it to Shiro.

Shiro scrambled to catch it, still having absolutely no clue what the last minutes of his life had been. “Uh...” He looked between a snickering Matt and a stern looking Pidge and decided his mother didn't raise a fool. “Here you go, Katie.” He handed her the phone and ruffled her hair as she snatched it, absently wrapping him in a half hug.

“Hey Shiro!” She smiled sweetly up at him, pocketing the phone and pointedly ignoring Matt's pout. “How's my favorite older brother doing today?”

“Hey!” Matt squawked, crossing his arms with a huff. “I brought your phone...”

Shiro chuckled at their antics and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Oh you know, the usual. Went to a biker bar and got crowned the Champion of... something?”

Pidge snorted, adjusting her glasses and shooting a fond look at the kitchen doors. “Yeah... that just means you're the tallest friend I have.” She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “I used to be Number 5 before I petitioned to have height sorted by friendship to me, since I am the cutest.”

Shiro barked a laugh, placing a hand on his chest. “Well I am honored.”

“Are there any perks?” Matt cut in, apparently done sulking.

Pidge shrugged, “A free milkshake I guess.” She jerked her thumb at the board of flavors behind the bar. “Anything you want?”

Matt twisted a face at her before shooting a look at Shiro, elbowing him in the ribs and nodding his head to the board. “Split the peanut butter with me and I'll forget you stole my little sister?”

Shiro shook his head with a grin before shrugging. “Sure Matt, but I get to keep your mom's dinner invitation.”

“Deal.”

Pidge rolled her eyes at them and wandered into the back to grab the peanut butter, coming out a few moments later with Coran in tow.

“Alright Number 1!” He was waving around an old camera excitedly, “Time for your hall of fame picture!”

Shiro turned, one eyebrow raised and mouth open, “My wha-”

A flash blinded him as the bulb went off on the old camera and he reeled, blinking stars out of his eyes.

“Uh-”

Coran held the rapidly developing picture up next to Shiro's face. “Perfect!” He snatched it back and turned back to the wall of art over the bar, ripping a little picture of Hunk down and clipping up Shiro's surprised face.

“Your face!” Matt was howling next to him, slapping the bar top as he wheezed, tears in his eyes. “Shiro look at your face!” He threw one hand out to smack at Shiro's arm and pointed at the offending picture.

Shiro had to admit, it was probably the worst picture he'd ever taken.

“Nonsense, Holt 1!” Coran slapped Matt on the shoulder hard enough to make him wheeze again, “That's the face of a Champion, always ready for his close up!”

Pidge was doing an admirable job of keeping a straight face, teeth firmly clamped into her bottom lip as she scooped everything into the blender. She flicked a look up at Shiro's half grimace and it's photographic counterpart before her mouth wobbled again. Reaching over the bar, she offered him a spoonful of consolation peanut butter.

“Matt's just jealous that even a bad picture of you looks better than a good picture of him.”

Shiro snorted, snagging the spoon and jamming it into his mouth as they ignored Matt blowing a raspberry in their direction. He opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by the roar of an engine in the parking lot drowning out the whir of the blender.

Matt twisted in his seat to look toward the door, eyebrow cocked. “Business already?”

Coran craned his neck up to see the clock, “Oh! That'll be number 4, early as always!” He bustled over to a jukebox in the corner, keying through it rapidly and calling over this shoulder to Pidge. “Holt 2! What's the theme music today?”

Pidge hummed thoughtfully as she stopped the blender and eyed the contents. “How about George Thorogood?”

Coran pumped a fist appreciatively at the suggestion as he flashed through more options. “Any particulars?”

Pidge flicked a look up to Shiro and a sly grin slid over her face as she called back, “How about Bad to the Bone?”

“Ah, excellent choice!” Coran fished a nickel from his pocket and eyed the door hard, waiting for the rumble outside to cut off. Matt and Shiro shot each other a confused look as Pidge held up a finger, ear cocked to the door. As soon as the scuffle of boots could be heard on the other side she pointed to Coran who dropped the nickel in and slammed the button down, throwing jazz hands toward to the door.

The opening guitar riff came out startlingly loud and Shiro flinched, before eyeing Pidge who pointed sternly at the door. He twisted in his seat just in time to see it get thrown open as the silhouette of a man stepped stepped through.

A red helmet tucked into the side of a black leather jacket was just the tip of the iceberg Shiro's mind had rammed into. Buckled motorcycle boots clunked across the floor and jingled with each step - dark wash skinny jeans torn at the knees were tucked into them, tightened with a studded belt slung across slim hips that swung with each step toward the bar.

Shiro took a dry swallow and dragged his eyes up to the black t-shirt stretched tight over a noticeably muscled chest, slightly damp with sweat and riding up just enough to show a dark trail of hair. A hand clad in fingerless gloves scratched absently through it before tugging the hem down and Shiro followed it up, up, up to where it caught dark bangs and slid them back with a shake of a head, revealing dark blue eyes framed by thick lashes.

Those eyes sparked with mirth as the man quirked an eyebrow at Pidge.

“Really? Thorogood?” His voice was like whiskey and smoke, smooth as it poured over Shiro's ears. The man shot a two finger salute at Coran, lips curling into a grin before he nodded at Matt and ruffled Pidge's hair, slipping into the kitchen through the swinging doors.

The sound of the jukebox played on over the utter static in Shiro's head.

He was vaguely aware that Pidge was laughing, jerking a thumb back toward the kitchen while she talked to Matt, but all he could hear was the blood rushing to his face and the echo of that voice.

The spoon in his hand clattered to the bar top as he reached over and clutched at Pidge's hand.

“Pidge.” He shot her his best pleading smile, which must have been a little manic judging by how she leaned back. “Who...” He trailed off, gaping at the doors.

Matt let out a guffaw, slapping the table as he pointed at Pidge in triumph.

“I _told_ you he was Shiro's type.” He knocked his knuckles onto the bar top as he grinned. “What did I say?”

Shiro looked up at Pidge like a hopeful puppy, his face was so pathetic that Pidge didn't even mind being wrong. She dug into her pocket and slapped a five dollar bill in front of Matt on the bar top before eyeing Shiro again.

“Somehow I thought you'd have better taste...” She grumbled under her breath as she shook her head. “That's Keith. We go to college together.”

“Keith...” Shiro breathed, turning to look at the swinging doors longingly.

Matt wrinkled his nose and reached over to flick at his ear, snagging the milkshake from Pidge in the process. “You could always ask for his number.”

Shiro turned to him aghast, “Matt, you can't do that to people at their jobs, they can't say no!”

Pidge snorted as she rinsed out the blender. “Oh believe me, that's not a problem with Keith.” She cut a look over to Matt, giving him the evil eye. “But Shiro is right, super uncool.”

Matt held up his hands. “Whatever, I'm just saying. Leave him yours then.”

Shiro slumped over the counter, stealing the milkshake back morosely.

“He's so cool he probably gets it all the time...”

Pidge barked out a laugh, jerking the sink hose and spraying water everywhere.

“You think Keith is _cool_?” Pidge wheezed, doubling over as she swiped her face with a towel. “He's a greasy nerd with a motorcycle.” She collected herself, leaning over the bar on her elbow as she gave Shiro a predatory grin. “I'll make you a deal.”

“Oh no.” Matt groaned, thumping his head on the counter. Pidge ignored him entirely, fixated on her prey.

“I'll put in a good word for you with Keith if you'll be my chauffeur for the next two weeks.”

Shiro nodded like a bobblehead, sticking his hand out for her to shake. “Deal.” He passed the milkshake back to Matt before adding, “I'd drive you around anyway if you needed me to, Katie.”

She patted him on the hand as if he were a particularly well behaved pet. “I know Shiro, that's why you're my favorite.”

Matt took a long slurp, trying to drown himself before he shoved the glass away and snagged Shiro's elbow.

“Anyway, nerd.” He shot her a playful scowl. “Enough making Faustian bargains with Shiro, he's delicate.”

Shiro shrugged, letting himself be pulled outside as he waved over his shoulder to a smug Pidge. Matt shoved him through the door to the parking lot, wincing at the wave of heat that rolled over them and turned to poked Shiro in the chest.

“Shiro.” He emphasized each word with another poke, “We were in there so she owed us forever, not the other way around!”

It would have been more effective had Shiro not been thoroughly distracted by the cherry red Ducati parked behind them. Matt frowned, waving a hand in front of Shiro's face before rolling his eyes.

“I thought you said a biker themed drive in was lame.”

Shiro shook his head, not taking his eyes off the bike and doing his best not to imagine the owner straddling it. “I am a man of many mistakes.”

Matt barked out a laugh, “You can say that again.” He tugged Shiro forward and pushed him into the passenger side, “Come on loverboy, you've got a car to clean out and fireproof. The next two weeks are her robotics competition.”

Shiro's pale face was almost worth the wasted afternoon.

 


	2. Chapter 2

There was a river of sweat running solidly from the back of his neck down into the crack of his ass, and Keith was about five seconds from peeling off his clothes in the middle of the kitchen, health codes be damned.

“Ugh.” He dragged a hand through his bangs again before flicking the damp hand at the ground with a grimace. “Fucking hot out.”

Hunk stared at him in mute horror and grabbed a rag soaked in sanitizer, wiping down the counter near Keith.

“Uh, Buddy.” Lance gingerly reached out and took the helmet from Keith's arm's, nearly gagging at the smell as he tucked it into Keith's locker cubby. “Have you considered, maybe... not wearing all black and leather in the middle of the summer?”

Keith shot him a flat look. “So I can be a shattered puddle if I wreck my bike?” He peeled off his gloves and jacket, stowing them next to the helmet, and pinched the front of his shirt. It came away with a sucking sound before dripping onto the floor.

Lance turned green. “Yeah, no.” He made to shove Keith toward the employee restroom before recoiling at the thought of touching that shirt. “You can borrow my extra shirt.”

“And my deodorant...” Hunk muttered from the counter, scrubbing furiously as he eyed the sweat drops on the floor.

Keith shrugged, snatching the shirt from Lance's cubby and wandering into the bathroom. He peeled the shirt over his head and tossed it onto the floor, grinning as he heard Hunk gag at the audible wet smack. Scrubbing off with the baby wipes they kept in stock didn't take long and left him feeling far more human than when he wandered in, but there wasn't much to be done for the epic case of swamp-ass he had going on. Peeling down his jeans and shimmying them to his knees he assessed the situation: his boxers were entirely soaked through with sweat from the ride over, but his jeans were still pretty salvageable. Keith eyed the door, flicking the lock again just in case, and toed his boots off. The awkward hopping to avoid touching his socks to the bathroom floor lead to a couple of thumps and a crash or two as he careened into a box. He gave up and sat down on the lid of the toilet with a shudder, hoping that Hunk's cleanliness extended here as well.

“Everything okay in there?” Lance's voice floated through the door, “The shirt wasn't missing any holes or anything right?”

Keith rolled his eyes at the door, offering an affirmative grunt in response as the feeling of his bare ass on the toilet lid warred with his need to not touch his feet to the floor. He yanked the other boot off and ripped the jeans down completely, snagging the boxers out from inside them and balling them up. Tugging the jeans back above his ankles, he shoved his feet back in his boots as fast as humanly possible and threw himself off the toilet lid with a scowl. He gave himself a cursory skim with the baby wipes before shimmying the denim up the rest of the way, careful not to pinch anything without the barrier in between as he zipped himself up.

A quick sniff test to his armpits as he pulled on Lance's clean shirt made him take Hunk up on his offer – a quick swipe of deodorant and he was good to go. He grabbed a handful of paper towels to pick up his drenched boxers and shirt and unlocked the door, holding them in front of him like an offering as he stepped into the hallway attached to the kitchen.

“I come bearing gifts!” He grinned at Lance's horrified face.

Pidge snorted from where she leaned against the walk-in freezer.

“And Shiro thought you were cool...”

Keith cocked his head at her as he dug around under the counter, grabbing a plastic bag and depositing his disgusting clothing inside before tying it off. “Who thought what now?”

Lance eyed the bag like a bomb as Keith tossed it into his cubby underneath the rancid helmet. Lance had stuffed it with deodorizers while Keith was in the bathroom.

“Someone with poor taste thought something stupid.”

Hunk puttered by them and into the bathroom with a mop, a man on a mission as he eyed Keith leaning against the counter.

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Matt's friend.”

Keith's blank look said it all.

“The guy you just walked by when you came inside.”

Keith pointed out to the bar. “Metal arm guy?” He made a vague sweeping motion over his face with his hands, miming floofy hair. “Really cute?” His face went contemplative as stared at the doorway. “I wasn't paying that much attention, I assumed he was a biker Matt had met.”

“Hah!” Pidge slapped her knee, and grabbed her phone, glancing up at Keith with a grin. “Oh they'll love that.”

Keith shrugged at her, washing his arms up to his elbows in the sink and grabbing an apron to tie around his waist. “So he thought I was cool?” He aimed for casual but his tone missed the mark by a few miles.

Lance screwed up his face at him. “He didn't get a good look at you.” His critical once over of Keith had his face warping even further as he got to the sweaty sweaty hair. “The first glance aesthetic covers up the whole 'covered in filth and devoid of fashion' aspect.”

Keith casually gave him the finger as he collected his pens for the day.

“You're just mad I get better tips.”

Hunk wheeled the bucket and mop out from the bathroom, giving the counter near Keith a subtle wipe down as he passed by.

“To be fair,” he interjected before it could get ugly, “It's because you ride a motorcycle as well.”

Keith grinned at him and shrugged, not denying it. “You gotta work your advantage somehow.”

“Yeah, yours is just half a Joan Jett cosplay apparently.” Lance muttered under his breath as he set the coffee going.

“Anyway!” Pidge cut in, “Shiro offered to drive me to the robotics competition this week and next, which means you losers have no excuse about not having a ride.”

She sidled up to Keith who was rolling his shoulders in Lance's smaller shirt. “He's a really cool guy you know.” He shot her a curious look as he tugged at a thread on the sleeve. “And he's single.”

Keith huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes and ruffling Pidge's hair. “Remember the last time you tried to set me up?” He gave her a pointed look before gesturing to Lance and Hunk for confirmation.

Hunk winced, nodding in agreement. “It was pretty bad, Pidge.” The corner of his mouth tugged sideways as he shuddered. “I think that guy thought Keith was actually mugging him when he went to introduce himself.”

Pidge scowled at them both before turning to Lance. “James was just a little straight laced.” Lance fidgeted under her gaze, darting looks to Hunk and Keith.

“I mean...” Lance waffled, wringing his hands. “Keith did look a little intimidating.” He shot his hands out at Keith's deepening glower. “But James was totally like an uptight accountant type that our dude would eat for breakfast, so...” He trailed off, failing to make anyone happy as Hunk winced in sympathy.

“Whatever.” Pidge sniffed, turning to Keith again. “You even just said he was cute.” She poked him in the chest as he raised his hands in surrender. “And he doesn't know you're actually just gross boy greasy and not cool biker greasy.”

“Hey-”

“So!” She cut him off with another poke, “You owe me and you've got to come to my thing.”

Keith frowned at her, rubbing at his chest where she had jabbed him as he mumbled, “I would have gone anyway.”

She beamed at him before throwing a damp towel at his head.

“Perfect! Now go clean your greasy face.”

Keith toweled off his head with a sigh, resigning himself to two weeks of torment by Holt.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Matt ripped the duct tape with his teeth, sticking it down on the corner of the tarp and securing it to the side of the van.

“There!” He leaned back, admiring his handiwork and beaming over at Shiro. “I'd like to see her scratch up the van through this!”

Shiro groaned next to him, sticking down his own corner. “Don't tempt fate.” He cut a look over to where Matt was fiddling with the tarp on the back of the second row of seats. “You said her robot breathes fire?”

Matt nodded like a proud parent. “Among other things.” He gave the tarp a pat before hauling himself over Shiro and out of the van. “Don't worry, this stuff is fire retardant.”

Shiro looked at him askance, sliding out of the van himself. “Not fire proof?”

“Nothing is fire proof if you put your mind to it.”

Shiro decided he was not going to take Matt up on that challenge, it was bad enough that his 'mom van' as Matt had dubbed it was going to be put through hell for two weeks, he really didn't need hospital visits to add to his stress levels.

“Are you sure we shouldn't take out the second row of seats to give her more room?” Shiro eyed the back of the van warily, he hadn't seen Pidge's robot yet but he had heard that it was a local champion, which usually meant big.

Matt smirked at him, “It'll be fine, the robot is like her – small and terrifying.” He pulled a pack of beef jerky from his backpack, ripping off a piece and handing one to Shiro.

Shiro chuckled, snagging the piece and shooting him a rueful look. “Don't I know it...”

He hadn't heard any updates from Pidge about the whole thing with her heartthrob of a coworker and was starting to think that he'd been shot down before even saying hello. Not that he could really blame the guy, with looks and effortless cool like that he probably wouldn't look twice at a nerd like Shiro. He slid onto the bumper and propped his chin on his elbow as he gave the jerky a speculative look.

“You think she'll tell me when her friend shoots me down?” Matt turned and cocked an eyebrow at him in question, still chewing as he prompted Shiro to elaborate. “Keith.” Matt rolled his eyes and waved his hand in a 'get on with it' motion as he chewed faster. “I mean, she might just not mention if he isn't interested to spare my feelings.”

Matt snorted, choking a little on the jerky and thumping himself on the chest. He grabbed a bottle of water and guzzled, holding up a finger to Shiro until he was finished.

“Nah.” He pulled away with a gasp. “Pidge isn't one to spare feelings. She might even tell you why in detail.”

Shiro winced, folding his metal fingers into a fist and tucking it closer to his chest.

Matt reached over and punched him on the shoulder. “She wouldn't be friends with him if he was that kind of asshole.” He gave Shiro's arm a meaningful look before ruffling his bangs. “Besides, I think you're greatly overestimating that kid's appeal.”

Gripping Shiro's wrist, Matt tugged hard until he stumbled off the tailgate and up the stairs to their apartment.

“Come on, it's your last day of freedom before she starts calling your Jeeves or something. We gotta get blitzed.”

Shiro shook his head with a grin as he let Matt tug him up the stairs. “Fine, but I'm not waking up with a hangover this time, we're alternating with water.”

 

They did not alternate with water.

The shrill ringtone of his phone had Shiro groaning and clutching his head, flailing out blindly in a seek and destroy mission that only succeeded in knocking empty cans off the coffee table. Matt whimpered from the other end of the couch, burrowing his head into the pillows.

“Ughh. What the fuck...” Matt cracked one crusty eye open and grabbed his own phone from under the couch cushion.

8 am. Ten unread messages from Pidge.

“What time are you bringing her to this thing?”

Shiro grunted back at him, opening his own sleep-sticky eyes to grab his phone from where it was shrieking on the floor. He thumbed the answer button and brought it up to the vague area of his face.

“Hello.” His voice was a gravelly rumble that could barely be considered human.

“Good morning!” Shiro winced at Pidge's cheerful greeting and yanked the phone a few inches away from his ear, shooting Matt a look. “This is your reminder that you're my ride in about an hour.”

“Mm.” His eloquent response earned Shiro a bark of laughter in his ear. “I'll be ready for you.”

“I certainly hope so.” Pidge managed to sound sly even over the phone. “I got several snaps from Matt last night that lead me to believe I might need to come wake you up myself.”

Shiro scowled at Matt, kicking him in the thigh where they were laying head to foot on the couch.

“I'll be fine.” He cleared his throat and immediately winced at the sound and smell. “One hour, your apartment.”

“Affirmative.” Pidge chirped, “You have 4 seats open and the back row gone correct?”

“Mhmm.”

“Great! You'll need it. See you soon!” Shiro barely had time to process before Pidge was already hanging up.

He let his phone thunk back down on his chest as he flopped back onto the couch.

“Matt?” He toed the torso on the other end of the couch.

“Hmm?” The sleepy grunt came back, muffled through a pillow.

“Kill me.”

The wobbly thumbs up and lazy prod to his own ribs with Matt's smelly feet made Shiro huff a laugh and roll himself off the couch. He practically crawled down the hallway to the shower and turned the water on as hot as it could go before peeling off his stale, smelly clothing and attempting to drown himself. Unfortunately the best he could manage was to drink some of the hot shower water with a grimace.

Fortunately the hot water did wonders to ease the knotted muscle that came from sleeping with another grown man on a couch. He let it pour over him as he leaned half awake against the tile, mentally preparing for a day of loud noises and excited youth. He considered the option of ducking out of the arena where Pidge would be competing in favor of walking around the surrounding town, but if anything happened to Pidge while he was away he'd disembowel himself before facing Matt and Colleen.

Sighing, he turned off the tap and toweled off as he made his way to his unused bed where his least dirty clothes lived. Since school had been out he and Matt had adopted a laissez-faire attitude toward things like laundry and clutter, content to wait until manic cleaning feelings built up in one or the other of them.

So far that meant Shiro was down to nothing but old jeans and t-shirts he'd outgrown since his new gym habit...

He grabbed a pair of jeans so worn they were soft and pulled an old Nasa t-shirt over his head, grimacing at the audible pop of a seam on the sleeve as he tried to tug it down the last inch to his pants - a futile effort, and ultimately unimportant. It wasn't as if anyone at a robotics competition was going to expect him to look decent anyway, and Pidge had seen him in far more embarrassing things over the years. He tugged on a pair of old sneakers to complete his transformation back into Freshman Year Shiro and slid into the hallway, making jazz hands at Matt.

“Ta-da!” He fluttered his fingertips as Matt cracked an eye open.

“Shi-” Matt cut off, blinking twice and rubbing his eyes. “What is that?”

Shiro shrugged, wandering to the counter and pocketing his keys before rifling through the fridge for some fruit to take.

“You look like you're about to flex out of that and start dancing on a pole.” Matt grumbled, slinging his legs over the edge of the couch.

Shiro shrugged again, inspecting two different apples. “It's not like Katie is going to care.” He threw a look back over his shoulder. “And in case you didn't notice, we're out of laundry.”

Matt groaned again, letting his head thump onto the back of the couch. “Fine. I'll do it today if it means I don't have to see this much of your chest ever again.”

Shiro winked back at him and grabbed one of the apples and a little container of raw veggies and peanut butter along with an energy drink for Pidge in case he was late.

“Love you, Matthew.”

“Don't start Shirogane.” Matt lifted a middle finger as he trudged down the hallway to the bathroom and shut the door.

Shirro laughed as he grabbed his phone, wincing at the time and hurrying out to the car with his breakfast.

 

Pidge was sitting on her front porch when he pulled up, she hopped to her feet as he threw the van in park and popped her gum in his direction.

“You're late.”

Shiro offered her a sheepish smile and the energy drink as he lifted the hatchback for her.

“But only by a minute, I wanted to make sure you had snacks for your big day.” His smile was angelic as he lifted the container of fruits and vegetables that Pidge wouldn't touch if paid.

Predictably she grimaced at him and offered a weak grunt of thanks before hefting the dufflebag into the back.

“That's it?” Shiro cocked his head at the bag, expecting something bigger from an unbeaten killbot. Pidge shrugged back at him.

“Don't judge her by her size.”

Shiro raised his hands in surrender, nudging the bag in further as he shut the hatch and walked around to open Pidge's door.

“Such a gentleman.” She smirked at him, eyeing his ratty attire. “At least you have half of the chauffeur thing down.”

He grinned back, pinching the material of the shirt where it was melded to his pecs. “Matt's doing laundry today.”

Pidge winced, “He must be down to briefs and cosplay then.”

“More or less.” Shiro nodded, “We slept on the couch to avoid moving piles of dirty clothes from our beds I think.”

Pidge sighed as she clicked her seat belt in and threw her legs up on the dash. “You're both gross.” She tapped her feet up on the windshield and made a finger gun at him, turning on her GPS as he clamored in the other side. “We've got a stop to make on the way, it's not far.”

Shiro gave her legs a side-eye. “If we get in a crash your tibia is going to shatter and ram into your skull.” She huffed at him, sliding her legs off the dash and shaking her phone again. He smiled at her and took it, plugging it into the van. “What are we picking up?”

She smiled, sickly sweet. “Oh, just Lance, Hunk, and Keith.”

Shiro decided the devil was real, and she was a little girl.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In other news - I wasn't going to write anything today but it's 1am and my neighbor is blasting R&B loud enough to rattle my shelves and I have to be at work in 7 hours: A Saga.

Shiro's hands could not have been sweatier as he pulled up to the curb of the rickety apartment Pidge had directed him to. He was mentally writing his will, giving everything to dear sweet Matt who had tried to warn him about the evils of Katie - and leaving his dirty laundry to the gremlin in his passenger's seat. She hadn't stopped grinning since he'd gone white as a sheet ten minutes ago.

Shiro threw the van into park, twisted to give her one last pleading look. “Katie, are you sure you really need them?” She raised an eyebrow at him, snapping her gum. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. “I mean, won't their talking break your concentration?”

She snorted, “I'm Pidge around these idiots, and they'll be fine.” Unbuckling and hopping out, she made her way up to the door and pounded. Or maybe that was just Shiro's heartbeat, he really couldn't tell anymore.

He had never felt more unprepared in his life - not defending his thesis, not starting his first days of teaching, not during his PT appointments for the prosthetic... somehow the thought of a pretty boy seeing him at this level of hot mess before they were even introduced had taken the prize of The Worst Thing Ever.

Closing his eyes, Shiro groaned and thudded his head against the steering wheel. He'd been bamboozled by a Holt, once again.

A hooting laugh and the stampede of feet down the front porch steps had him rolling his head to the side to assess his misfortune head on. A lanky guy was perched on the back of Hunk's shoulders as they thundered down the stairs, just steps behind where Keith had Katie slung over one shoulder at a dead sprint, her hands flailing at their pursuers to ward them off. Shiro's eyes widened at the oncoming pile of broken bones and he slapped one hand over his eyes, determined not to watch the moment of impact.

He winced as a body thudded into the side of the van, but it was followed by laughter instead of screaming and Shiro twisted around, peering out the window to assess if a detour to the ER was in order.

Pidge had slapped a palm onto the side of the van, shrieking in triumph from her place hanging off Keith's shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Shotgun!”

Hunk shrugged the other boy off him and gave him a pat on the back. “Sorry buddy, we'll get them next time.”

Keith smirked at them, unwrapping his arm from Pidge's back and sliding her down to her feet. “Not likely, Lance has been putting away the snacks lately.”

“HEY!” The lanky one – apparently Lance – squawked at him, “It's not my fault that Pidge weighs like twenty pounds soaking wet.”

Hunk nodded next to him. “Yeah man, and you could outrun me even without Lance, these teams are stacked.”

Pidge shrugged and threw the van door open, pointing at the middle bench with three seats.

“Irrelevant, get in losers!”

Shiro was just glad he wouldn't be cleaning up blood and continued his efforts to become one with the seat.

“Shiro.”

That plan when out the window when Pidge poked him in the ribs.

“This is Keith and Lance.” She jerked a thumb toward her friends. “You've met Hunk, obviously.”

Shiro turned and gave them a sheepish wave, mindful of the dangerously stretched seams of his shirt.

“Hello, nice to meet you.”

Lance hurled himself into the backseat with abandon, sticking his hand out to shake through the gap in the seats.

“Hey man, Pidge said you were cool, nice to meet you.”

Shiro shook the offered hand, raising an eyebrow at a smirking Pidge. “Thanks?” He cleared his throat, turning back around and fiddling absently with the radio.

Pidge shoved Hunk in next to Lance as a friendly buffer before shooing Keith into the last seat, packed in like sardines. She slid the door shut, just grazing his elbow on the way before hopping into her own spacious passenger seat, “All ready, Captain!”

Shiro eyeballed them in the mirror before shrugging and throwing the car into drive, once again attempting to become invisible.

“So, Shiro...” Katie began, eyes twinkling at the reflexive hunch of his shoulders. “Matt's been telling me you've been going to the gym a lot lately.”

He shot her a look, before shrugging noncommittally, making the shirt tug tight across his shoulders. “I guess.”

Pidge's toothy smile widened as she twisted to look into the back seat. “Keith, you do gross sweaty gym things too, right?”

The boy in question grunted from where he was wedged between Hunk and the door. “Sometimes.” He wheezed out, trying to elbow himself more room.

Pidge's eyebrows pinched for a moment before smoothing into a placid innocent face. “I guess it's hard to find time between being a cool biker and giant nerd.

Keith scowled at her. “Astronomy isn't like, lame-nerdy, it's cool.”

Shiro perked up at the mention of his subject, flicking his eyes back to the frowning mop in the mirror. “You study astronomy?”

Keith shrugged, shoulders hunched up to his ears in the tight quarters.

Lance guffawed, making Hunk wince. “Mullet doesn't just study it.” He jerked his thumb over Hunk's body to point at Keith. “He never shuts up about it and probably sleeps on the roof half the time.”

Keith flushed, scowling at Lance as he reached over to flick him in the ear, ignoring Hunk's deep sigh from between them.

Shiro shrugged again, eyes trained on the road. “That's cool though, I know how you feel.” He tipped his head in Pidge's direction with a smile. “I teach astronomy and astrophysics courses with Sam Holt.”

Lance gaped at Pidge's smug face before throwing himself back in the seat and crossing his arms. “Pidge you said there would be fire breathing robots, not rare nerd courting rituals.”

Keith blushed furiously and reached out to smack him again but Hunk caught his wrist with another sigh before elbowing Lance himself. The tips of Shiro's ears were pink as he clammed back up and flicked the volume of the radio up a little louder.

If Pidge's looks could kill Lance would have been an eviscerated puddle.

 

Shiro breathed a deep sigh of relief as they finally pulled up to the venue just shy of an hour later. Conversation had been blessedly contained between the four of them after the initial stilted foray into trying to talk to Keith and he was hoping that his luck would continue and he'd vanish into thin air.

Fortunately Pidge seemed to be on a mission.

“Okay Shiro, initial setup is going on over in the main hall on the west side.” She pointed at the larger domed building with the banner draped across its doors. “The food court is going to be in the open marketplace on the other side.” She hefted the dufflebag from the back and slung it into Lance's arms. “I'll text you when the good stuff starts.”

Shiro blinked at her dumbly for a moment.

“Um... what?”

Pidge made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go find something to do around here, I know you don't like crowds.” Shiro gave her an uneasy look and her face softened a little. “I've got these three idiots here with me, I'll be fine.”

Shiro scratched the back of his head, shirt pulling tight and riding halfway up his side. “I guess I'm pretty transparent then?”

Pidge gave him a pat on the bicep before shoving him in the direction of the food court.

“Have fun! I'll get in touch with you when I want food.”

Shiro huffed a laugh before practically collapsing in relief as he wandered off, away from the already noisy convention hall.

Pidge whirled on Lance with a glower as she hissed low in his ear, “You get to be pack mule for ruining phase one.”

Lance pouted at her as he hefted the bag onto his shoulder and trotted at her heels. “I didn't know this was part of your scheme!”

Pidge rolled her eyes and walked around the van to where Hunk was stretching his legs out. “Everything is part of my scheme.” Hunk nodded sagely at her as he bent over and touched his toes.

“Who's scheming?” Keith piped up absently from the side as he watched Shiro's back disappear into the crowd.

“Don't worry about it.” She punched him in the arm, startling him out of his creeping. “Let's go set up before all the good spots are taken.”

“Are we just leaving him then?” Keith hesitated to follow her, turning to look back the other way. “I mean, he's a big guy.... definitely big....” He shook his head, stepping toward his friends. “He won't get lost?”

Pidge eyed him, amusement clear on her face.

“You said it yourself, he's a big boy.” She patted Keith on the arm before whirling away and marching toward the center.

The other three trailed after her like ducklings, one turning back curiously to watch a silver haired man slip away.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

The open air food court wasn't quite bustling when Shiro made it over, there were a few people milling around checking out the vendors that were setting up but it was quiet for the most part. He heaved a breath of relief, texting Matt that they had gotten there safely before winding his way through the stone tables scattered around until he reached a shady corner.

If this was how the next two weeks would go it might not be so bad after all.

Scrolling absently through his phone, Shiro scanned the crowd and hoped there wasn't anyone around to see his current state – the last thing he needed was some freshman in one of his courses taking a picture of Professor Shirogane in all his tattered glory shoveling food into his face as he giggled at cats on the internet. He tugged the container of vegetables Pidge had turned down out of his bag and plunked it on the table, leaning onto his elbows as he munched and scrolled.

No new emails from the department chair, one thumbs up emoji from Matt, a new snap story from Pidge – his eyebrows raised in disbelief, the robot was _tiny_ compared to the rest of the competition. He made a mental note to catch at least one of her matches and record it for Colleen as he kept scrolling.

Shiro had whittled away about half an hour in this manner, occasionally giggling over his phone as he draped himself on the table, studiously ignoring the draft on his lower back where the shirt didn't reach. The other tables slowly filled up around him as Shiro floated in his own little world, oblivious until a throat cleared above him. He jerked his head up to see a girl standing awkwardly with a tray and a nervous smile.

“Uh, hi?” He gave her his best 'I'm not a serial killer, can I help you?' face as she awkwardly shuffled her feet.

“Hi.” She squeaked, cheeks pink. “Do you mind if I share the table? It's kinda full.”

Shiro blinked, looking around him at the sea of heads that had trickled in and his own belongings spewed across the table alone.

“Oh!” He swept his container and the book he had brought just in case off the table to make room. “Of course, yeah.”

She blew a breath out as she set her tray down. “Oh thank god, you look the least creepy out of the people here.”

Shiro snorted a laugh, having to agree with her about the usual attendees of these sorts of things.

“I'm just someone's ride here.”

She nodded, digging into her food and jerking a thumb back toward the center. “I'm here as the cheer section for a friend.”

Shiro hummed and nodded in appreciation before turning back to his phone and continuing his perusal of funny cats, perfectly content to sit in silence.

His new companion was not. She flicked glances now and then to his arm as his metal fingers drummed on the table, gleaming with the movement. It was obvious that she was curious, mouth opening to ask before snapping shut again with a furrowed brow. Shiro grimaced internally, the only thing worse than someone asking him about it was someone determined not to ask about it in the most overt way possible.

After the third time it happened he sighed and flicked a glance up at her thoughtful face. “You can ask if you want.”

She went beet red. “Oh... I was just... the drumming was eye catching.”

Shiro hummed again, lifting the fingers off the table and flipping it over, letting the mechanics of it dance as he wiggled his fingers. “Sorry if it's distracting, it's nice to be able to move a hand again.”

The girl looked as if she would have shoved her whole foot in her mouth if she could. “Oh yes.” She replied faintly, “I'm sure...” She stared determinedly at her food, stabbing it with vigor.

Shiro bit back a smirk as he tugged his book out of his back again and cracked it open, hoping for a reprieve from having to socialize.

“Oh, is that the newest novel in the series?”

Shiro did not wince.

“Yeap.”

She put the fork down, leaning over into Shiro's space to see the cover better. “I love that series! I haven't read this last one yet but I've read all the others before it and have to say that she does a fantastic job with the allegorical parallels to-”

Shiro struggled not to tune out. He just wanted to read. Was that too much to ask?

“Hmmm.” He figured humming in different tones at appropriate times would give both the impression of civility and that he was not interested in continuing the conversation. “Hmmmm?”

“-and in the last novel the metaphorical parallel between the blacksmith and his hammer was a stroke of genius, if a bit of a phallic overtone.”

“Mmm.” Shiro nodded as appropriate before realizing she had paused, expecting an actual response. “Aah..” He scratched the back of his head, wracking his brain. “I'm a big fan of phallic overtones.” He patted himself of the back, subtle.

She nodded at him, cheeks pink again. “Me too,” Grimacing as she checked her phone, she reached out and touched Shiro's arm. “It's been great talking to you, would you like to exchange contact info so we can-”

“There you are, Babe!” Shiro startled as a body plopped down next to him on the other side, arm wrapping firmly around his waist and pressing him into a chest corded in lean muscle. His soul left his body as he turned and saw Keith's pretty smile beaming down at him, eyebrows frantically telegraphing 'play along'. He leaned into the touch, returning Keith's smile with his own and grabbing his hand, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles.

“Hey Handsome, I was getting worried.”

The smirk that slid onto Keith's face beat the surprised squeak from the girl by about one second as the hand on his arm yanked back like it had been burned. Shiro bit down a grin as he ducked his head and looked up at Keith through his lashes, shooting him an exaggerated wink before turning back to the girl.

“This is my boyfriend, Keith.”

She let out a bit of nervous laughter as she finished gathering her things. “Oh, it's lovely to meet you both, but I have to ah.... go.”

Keith smiled toothily at her, thumb slipping into the belt loop on Shiro's jeans.

“Bye!”

They waited until she was firmly out of sight before Shiro wheezed a gust of a breath out and grabbed Keith by the shoulder.

“You saved me.”

Keith snickered next to him, unwrapping his arm from Shiro's waist and scooting away. “No, you looked like you were having so much fun!” He put on his best imitation of Shiro's deep voice. “I love phallic allegories. Phallic analogies are even better.”

Shiro missed the warmth of Keith's arm for a second before covering his eyes with his hand and groaning. “I was trying to be subtle!”

Keith snorted a laugh, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Next time just go with 'I like dick.' that's what I do.”

Shiro sputtered a laugh and gave up on his book completely. “Are you guys done already?”

Keith shook his head, flicking his eyes up from his phone. “Nah, Pidge sent me with lunch requests.” He fished a twenty from his pocket and wiggled it between his fingers. “Apparently she conned Matt out of lunch money.”

Shiro huffed a laugh and nodded. “Sounds about right.” He heaved himself off the bench, shouldering his bag and offering a hand out to Keith. “Shall we?”

Keith snorted, letting himself be tugged off the bench as he sniffed daintily. “We shall.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

Keith pulled out his phone to check the clock for the third time in ten minutes, sighing when it didn't appear to be moving at all. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy being with his friends, he had happily agreed to go with them after all, but the sheer number of sweaty nerds was beginning to wear on his nerves between the excited shouting and the smells.

Pidge was watching him from the corner of her eye while she tinkered with the last bits of the bot as Hunk was running through the start-up diagnostics. Lance had wandered off to chat up some pretty girl, claiming he was getting intel on the competition. She leaned back on her haunches, wiping her forehead with the back of her wrist and gesturing at Keith with the wrench in her hand.

“Hey, what time is it?” She bit back her smile when he checked again, as if it had been long enough to change at all.

“Uh, about noon.” Keith looked up at her, trying his hardest to look engaged.

Pidge grunted, fishing a twenty from her pocket and shoving it at Keith. “Cool, go find Shiro and I'll text you our lunch order.”

“Okay?” Keith's eyebrows raised to his hairline as he pocketed the money. “Hunk?”

Hunk pulled off his headband and used it to wipe a smudge of grease off his face as he shook his head. “Nah man, I'm not done here yet.” He flashed a smile up at Keith as he pulled it back over his head and hunched of the console again. “Thanks for grabbing food though!”

“Yeah no problem...” Keith trailed off before shrugging and wandering out of the arena, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth if it got him out of the loud and smelly hall.

The fresh air hit him like a wall as he stepped outside and he took in a deep appreciative breathe, scanning the courtyard from the top of the steps as he decided where to look first. He didn't have Shiro's phone number despite Pidge's earlier teasing, but he was pretty sure the man had been headed off to the food court anyway when they had parted ways this morning. Either way he'd need to scope out the food and a guy like that with silver hair and a metal arm wasn't going to be hard to spot.

A roll of his shoulders got the feeling of being hunched too long out of his back and he trotted down the stairs, following the smell of food on the breeze. It didn't take long to catch sight of the courtyard filled with colorful umbrellas sticking out of stone tables like a sea of cheerful flowers fluttering. Unfortunately it was dead in the middle of lunch now and nearly every table was crammed with people.

Keith huffed in annoyance before scrambling up onto a ledge ringing the outside of the cobblestone area, stretching onto his toes as he looked out over the sea of heads. His brows furrowed in annoyance when Shiro wasn't readily apparent until he caught the light glinting off the familiar prosthetic even with the shade he was under... and he had company?

He hopped down from the ledge, weaving through the tables as he drew closer to them when his eyes locked onto Shiro's broad back through the crowd. He was slumped over the table, shoulders hunched a bit as his thin t-shirt strained over his back muscles. Keith could see every line between his traps and shoulder blades along with the rippling muscles down his back as he shifted away from his companion slightly. The back of his shirt had ridden up as well with the way he was leaned over the table and Keith nearly choked on his tongue as a pair of back dimples appeared, so deep he could probably take a shot out of them. He wanted to settle his thumbs in them as he squeezed his hands into those hips, framed by his soft tattered jeans that somehow looked so much better stretched over him than they had when he walked away that morning.

Or maybe Keith just hadn't been paying attention.

As he got closer it became apparent that this was a hostage situation. The girl was chattering a mile a minute about something while Shiro was perfecting his customer service face as he covered every possible hum in the human vocal range, clearly trying to get out of the conversation gracefully. It almost seemed like his strategy would work indefinitely until the girl reached out to him, ignoring the wince as she opened her mouth.

Keith knew where this was going, and knew Shiro was too nice to get himself out of it. There was really only one thing that he could do, purely as a courtesy for a friend of a friend.

Sliding an arm around that muscled waist had been like licking a nine volt battery, he felt every ridge of muscle on that torso and then some as Shiro twisted into his hold with a blinding smile. The kiss on his knuckles might as well have been a punch to the chest for all Keith could breathe afterward. This close Shiro was more than a good looking guy - he was devastating and charming as he smiled sweetly and called Keith his boyfriend and yeah, maybe that gave him more of a thrill than it should have... but it had been a while, and he'd never felt so absolutely dwarfed by someone – his hand was almost completely enveloped by Shiro's own.

Keith couldn't help but laugh at the girl and fall into easy conversation with Shiro after he had pulled him off the bench, wandering over to the alley of food vendors as they chatted.

“So, what's the order?” Shiro smiled as he scanned the different vendors and Keith fumbled with his phone as he struggled to look away from the man in front of him.

“Uh...” He thumbed open his lock screen to find no new messages from Pidge. “I... don't know?” He furrowed his brows, head cocked as he scrolled through his messenger apps – nothing.

Shiro shrugged and gave him an easy smile. “Well, we have plenty of time.” He jerked his thumb at the pathway leading out of the courtyard and onto the walking path that edged around the convention area and skirted the river. “Want to go for a stroll in the meantime?”

Keith thumbed his phone to silent and jammed it back in his pocket with a smile. “Lead the way.”

Shiro snorted and gave him a look, “Famous last words.” At Keith's raised eyebrow he elaborated with a sheepish grin, “Matt and I get lost hiking at least once a year when I manage to drag him with me.”

Keith squinted at him, falling into an easy pace at his side. “Somehow I feel like that's a bit of a coincidence to happen every time.”

Shiro flashed his best innocent smile. “Now why would I try to keep Matt outdoors for as long as possible?”

Keith threw his head back and laughed, partly to hide his tinged cheeks – Shiro's mischievous eyes behind the angelic facade was adorable. After wheezing out a few more giggles as he wiped at his eyes Keith shot a look up at Shiro through his lashes.

“I bet they all think you're a saint.”

Shiro froze for a second, brain rebooting at the look before he bit his lip with a small smile and a shrug. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Keith nudged him with his hip, rolling his eyes playfully. “I'm onto you, Shiro.”

Their walk meandered through the small gardens ringing the convention center and along the river's edge as they flowed from topic to topic like they'd known each other for years. Keith couldn't help but feel a little hopeful about Pidge's efforts to set him up this time after so many failed attempts. He couldn't ever remember feeling so comfortable with someone after just meeting them that day.

They were so engrossed in their walk that the shrill ring of Shiro's phone startled them from where they leaned side by side against the railing overlooking the river. He quirked his head and tugged it out of his pocket before grimacing at the time and Pidge's face on his caller ID.

“Oh dear...”

Keith cocked his head back at Shiro, wincing with him as he turned the phone screen around.

“Shit.” He pulled his own phone from his pocket and grimaced at the nineteen missed text messages ranging from an hour ago to just now, including a string of eggplant emojis from Lance. “Guess we lost track of time.”

Shiro thumb the green slider with his best smile, as if it would transfer through the phone.  
“Hey Pidge, what's up?”

Keith immediately heard squawking over the other end of the phone, cringing as Shiro's smile faltered and he held it farther from his ear.

“Oh, yeah, Keith actually just found me... No, I wandered off a good bit.... Yeah we can- ….But we'd be happy to get you fo- …. If you're sure then? … Did you send him an order? … Oh, an hour ago...”

Keith was watching the full spectrum of emotions flit over Shiro's face as he bargained and wheedled with Pidge, his face steadily turning pink as he listened to her. His hands were rolling and gesturing, eyebrows dancing and shoulders hunching and relaxing as he paced, it was probably the cutest thing Keith had ever seen.

“Well, okay then... if you're sure... yeah, I will.... okay Katie... see you in a bit... bye.”

Shiro gusted out a breath as he hung up, giving Keith a haunted look. Keith just held up his blown up phone with a toothy smile.

“I had it on silent?”

The corner of Shiro's mouth twitched as he eyed Keith before playfully punching him on the shoulder and guiding him back the way they came.

“Come on, they're not waiting for us to eat so we're on our own now.”

Keith shrugged, enjoying the feeling of that broad hand spanning his entire shoulder as he fished out the twenty again.

“Oh well, more for us!”

Shiro's laughter echoed all the way to the courtyard.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Holts are Done(tm)

Shiro had been downright obnoxious the entire week.

It wasn't like Matt didn't like to see his friend happy, but it was a little irritating that whenever HE made a deal with Katie it didn't end up with him getting to spend a week and counting of not-dates with some cute guy... last time she had him test every battery in her collection with his tongue after hiding all the test kits - he hadn't been able to taste things for a week afterward.

He can't even really be too annoyed, Shiro does deserve to be a fool with a crush every now and then, but this is a little extreme – especially since he has royally bungled the whole trying to date the boy aspect.

Shiro had been trailing around their apartment just... _smiling_. First he'd thought that maybe Shiro had been listening to a funny podcast or something, but there were no earbuds. Then maybe he thought he was just basking in the feeling of not being at work, but the workaholic was still writing up lesson plans for the next semester... it made no sense.

Matt spent a few evenings studying Shiro like an exotic bird before commencing interrogation over dinner.

“So Shiro.” He pulled up a chair next to his friend, steepling his fingers as Shiro slurped up his noodles.

“Hmm?” Shiro glanced up mid chew, pausing and squinting at Matt's calculating face.

“You've been cheerful lately...”

Shiro hummed noncommittally, cheeks heating against his will as he slurped more forcefully.

Matt narrowed his eyes and went for the jugular. “You get laid?”

Shiro choked on his bite and hacked out the noodles like a dying cat, wheezing over his bowl with watering eyes as he glared up at Matt's placid face. “No.”

Matt shrugged,tapping his fingers together once before leaning his head into his hand and gesturing lazily with the other.

“Well you see, it seems to me that your behavior could be described as infatuated.”

Shiro picked noodles off his sweater and tried to will away his blush.

“It's not like that.” He grumbled, refusing to meet Matt's eyes.

“Oh no?” Matt leaned over into Shiro's line of sight. “Isn't that the whole point of you selling your soul to our darling Katie?”

Shiro's broad shoulders slumped as his face went from embarrassment to resignation. “Keith's great but I think he's just really friendly.”

Matt had to resist the urge to drag his hands down his face. “Well have you asked him?”

“Asked him what?”

His eye had to be twitching by now, dealing with Shiro's laughably inaccurate self image issues always made Matt want to drink.

“I dunno Shiro, if he's gay. If he's single. If he's interested.” He rolled his eyes as he ticked off his fingers. “Text him and ask if he wants to hang out outside of the competition.”

Shiro shrank even farther in his chair as he mumbled into his bowl. Matt cocked his head and gave him a sarcastic smile.

“You'll have to speak up, I don't understand wuss very well.”

Shiro scowled hard, straightening up and meeting Matt's eyes. “I don't even have his phone number.”

That threw Matt for a loop - he paused and dug his pinky into his ear as he cocked his head toward Shiro.

“Wanna run that one by me again Shirogane?”

Shiro deflated a little, dragging his palm down his face before shrugging sheepishly.

“He just kinda finds me each day of the event... Pidge has been texting me anything I need to know.”

Matt held up a finger and spun his chair around, grabbing his hair in two fists and screaming at the fridge before spinning back around with a placid expression. Shiro's eyes were saucers.

“So, he pretends to be your boyfriend the first day he meets you to save you from some rando and you spend hours talking-” Shiro made to open his mouth but Matt held a finger up. “-and he comes to find you every day to hang out when Katie could just text you anything she needs-”

“That's not really-”

“-AND-” Matt continued, reaching across to clamp his hand on Shiro's mouth. “-and he leaves his friends in the middle of the thing where he knows no people to come find the person he barely knows without actually being able to text the person to find them?” Matt raised an eyebrow at Shiro, pulling his hand away and planting it on his hip.

Shiro made a face and wiped his mouth with his sleeve before clearing his throat, pausing to see if he'd be interrupted. Matt nodded at him to continue and he put on his best dignified look.

“He doesn't really like the loud convention or get the robots like they do, so he goes to find quiet.” Matt looks at him incredulously before hopping out of the chair and grabbing a beer from the fridge. Shiro frowned at him, “What?”

Matt just shook his head and sighed, taking a long draught of his beer before pinching the bridge of his nose and looking at the ceiling.

“Shiro.” He dragged a hand through his hair and wracked his brain for the best words for the situation. “If you didn't want to be somewhere I invited you to go, would you go every day?”

Shiro cocked his head like a puppy, “Maybe if you really wanted me to go...”

Matt shook his head, “What if I didn't really care? What if I sent you away to go hang out with someone else while we were there?”

“Well, I would have to like the other person if I didn't want to be there anyway...” Shiro trailed off, comprehension dawning as Matt threw up his hands. “Oh.”

“Yeah, Oh.” Matt downed more of his beer in exasperation. “This guy has been going somewhere he's not comfortable and dipping on his friends to hang out with you when he could be at home doing whatever greasy motorcycle nerds do-”

“He builds old bikes at his uncle's shop!” Shiro beamed, “He showed me some pictures of one he's been working on but it's been slow going because he hasn't had much.... time.” Shiro trailed off, thumping his head on the table.

Matt gave him a pat on the head and dragged the abandoned bowl of noodles over.

“Maybe I should get his number.” Shiro mumbled into the wood.

“Probably.” Matt garbled through a mouthful.

 

The next day was some qualifying event that didn't even involve Pidge's bot fighting but she had insisted that it was important to see how every competitor changed strategies as they fought, so Shiro dutifully picked her in the morning with a cup of coffee for himself and a pack of energy drinks for her.

She stumbled out of the house like a zombie, shuffling her way to the van and hauling the side door open as Shiro twisted to look at her in confusion.

“Back seat today?”

She waved him off with a cracked eye. “Wanna nap laying down.”

“Okay Katie, make sure you've got some semblance of a seatbelt on.”

She gave him a sleepy grunt, “Okay mom.”

He chuckled and punched in his GPS to the convention center, startling when a bony hand clamped on his shoulder – the specter of death herself was glowering over at the screen.

“Forgetting something?”

Shiro's eyebrows rose to his hairline as he pried her fingers from his shoulder and eased her back into the seat. “I thought you said this wasn't a real day?”

She grumbled something incoherent and slid back down across the seat, tugging the belt across her lap. Shiro sighed and changed the address, hoping her friends would deal with the wrath of a Holt moved from slumber. Ten minutes later he pulled up to the curb and idled for a moment, considering whether beeping to get their attention and risking Katie waking up or getting out himself would be better when the door opened and Keith trotted down the steps, slinging his leather jacket and a bag over his shoulder.

Shiro waited for Hunk and Lance to follow, but Keith just took one look into the back seat at Pidge's napping form and shook his head before sliding in next to Shiro.

He flashed him a smile as he buckled himself in, hair sweeping in a disheveled arc over his eyes as he bent to dig in his bag. “Just me today.”

Shiro bit down his own silly smile. “I didn't think you'd be coming today.”

“Oh...” Keith's smile slipped as he stopped his rummaging and pulled his hands into his lap, one hovering over the seatbelt. “I don't have to...” His shoulders dropped and he clicked the belt back open, reaching for his bag again as he forced out a laugh. “I guess it is a little weird without them isn't it?”

“No!” Shiro's hand shot out and snagged the hand reaching for the door. “I didn't mean-” He shook his head frantically, unable to think of the right words. “Please, stay.”

Internal conflict warred across Keith's face as he darted a look between Shiro and his apartment. Shiro could feel the pulse beneath his fingers and loosened his grip, sliding down to cover his hand.

“Please.” He shot a look into the back seat where the lump was stirring. “It would mean a lot to Katie.”

A look flitted across Keith's face before he dropped his hand back into his lap and buckled in again. “Right, Pidge... would probably be bummed if none of us came.” He gave Shiro a thin smile and leaned against the passenger door, pillowing the jacket against the window. “Thanks for the ride.”

Shiro pulled his hand back and put the car in gear, pretty sure he had just missed something but not sure what. Keith closed his eyes and he was left with the quiet snores coming from the back seat for company.

It was the longest drive yet.

Shiro pulled up to the convention center to a noticeable lack of cars and breathed a sigh of relief as he turned to wake up Pidge - only to find her shooting him a disgruntled look as she clamored out of the van.

“Alright,” She hopped down onto the pavement and started toward the doors, “I'll text you in an hour or two.”

Shiro sputtered, snagging his own bag and jogging after her. “There's no one else here, I'm not going to wander off...

She rolled her eyes and shrugged without stopping. “Suit yourself.”

Keith trailed after them, glancing up every few moments as he scowled at his phone. Pidge held the door to the center open for them and raised an eyebrow at his thunderous expression.

“Lance?”

Keith just grunted in response, and Pidge nodded sympathetically and ushered him inside.

“Well, he'd stop teasing you if you'd grow a pair.”

He shot her a look that could've peeled paint off a wall and Shiro was infinitely glad it wasn't directed at him. Pidge was utterly unruffled as she led them over to a smaller ring where she plopped down in some folding chairs and pulled out her laptop.

“It's gonna be a pretty quick match but there's a few smaller bouts before it if you want to grab water.”

Shiro eyed his empty travel mug and looked at Keith who appeared to be engrossed in his phone and not planning to leave Pidge's side.

“Alright then.” He craned his neck over the sparse crowd until he spotted the signs for the restroom. “I'll be back in a minute or two then.”

Pidge paused her typing and smiled up at him. “Take your time!”

He missed the yelp as he wandered away.

 

Keith startled as Pidge slammed her laptop shut abruptly, whirling on him with murderous intent and grabbing a handful of his shirt.

“What are you _doing_?” She hissed at him with a glare, “You've barely said a word to him!”

Keith held his hands up defensively as he scowled back at her.

“He didn't even expect me to be here!”

She rolled her eyes, letting go of his shirt with a shove. “Of course he didn't, it was a surprise and you were supposed to take the opportunity to woo him!”

“How was I supposed to know that I was going to be wooing him?!” He hissed back, eyes darting to the bathrooms.

“Oh, I dunno...” Pidge held her chin thoughtfully for a moment before snapping her fingers and throwing her hands up. “Maybe because this entire thing has been a giant set up!”

“And if wooing-” Keith cut off as he processed her words. “Wait... what?”

Pidge slapped a hand to her face and screamed quietly into it before dragging it down as she shot daggers at him.

“I didn't need a ride here! I'm perfectly capable of borrowing mom's car.” She gestured at everything around them and to herself. “And I really don't need moral support!”

Keith shook his head, brows furrowed. “But then why...”

“Because someone had a big ol' gay crush on my idiot coworker and I was _trying_ to force them into close quarters without one or the other of them ruining it with their utter lack of social skills!” She pinched the bridge of her nose before throwing him another look. “Which is clearly too much to ask for!”

Keith groaned and slumped into his seat as he covered his face with his hands. “I thought you were going to set us up like, later.”

“What.” Pidge stared at him in utter disbelief.

He peeked through his fingers and gave a tiny shrug. “You know, like... I'd get his number from you sometime and maybe he'd need a car thing done and I could fix it...” He trailed off as Pidge's jaw dropped. “I don't know!”

“You don't even have his number?!”

“I didn't know!”

Pidge brought her knees up to her face and pulled on her hair before swiveling to look at him like an owl. “Keith, I've stayed here hours longer than I needed to every day so you two could take long romantic walks together.” Her eyes were looking more manic by the second. “I could be sleeping _right now_ if you had figured your shit out by now!”

Keith threw his own hands up in the air. “I thought you just took forever to text me your lunch order!”

“I eat the same damn thing every day!” She pulled out a baggie with a sandwich from her backpack and shook it. “Which you would have noticed if you weren't having apparently completely platonic bro time each day!”

“Why did you give me a twenty the first day if you bring your lunch?!”

“Because I'm subsidizing your shitty love life you moron!”

Keith deflated at that, slumping even farther into the chair. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Pidge sighed and dragged a hand through her hair again before resting a hand on Keith's shoulder. “Look, just... get his number, see if he wants to hang out. Baby steps.”

He looked up at her like a kicked puppy. “Can't I just get it from you?” Her flat look was answer enough. “Fine.” He hauled himself off the chair and popped his back, standing on his toes to see Shiro's silver hair weaving it's way back through the crowd. “He's coming back now so...”

Pidge made a shooing motion at him, “Go use the bathroom or something.” She turned and grumbled under her breath. “I probably have two idiots to straighten out.”

Keith stuck his tongue out at her and dug out his own bottle, waiting until Shiro made it back to leave. He gave him a small smile in passing and raised his own empty bottle as he jerked a thumb to the restrooms.

“Good idea.”

“Oh, uh.” Shiro offered a tentative smile back at him, saluting with his bottle. “Thanks?”

Keith gave him one last smile before Pidge's long suffering sigh had him scampering off and making a mental note to buy her the nerdy equivalent of flowers later.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one :)

Shiro knew he was in for another Holt LectureTM  the moment he laid eyes on Pidge's unimpressed face.

Naturally, like all intelligent prey he played dead.

“Gee Katie,” He yawned theatrically and stretched his arms above his head, “I must be getting old, I'm just so tired.” He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, throwing the nearest jacket over his face. “But I'll be right here if you need anything.”

He stayed as still as he could, evening out his breathing as he counted the seconds. The jacket actually smelled really good so it wasn't entirely acting to nuzzle his head against the inside of the collar and let out a sleepy sigh. He thought he might be in the clear when Pidge let out a disbelieving snort from somewhere in front of him.

“Shiro?”

He let out his best sleepy hum in acknowledgment, slumping further in the chair.

“That's Keith's.”

He froze mid sniff and pulled the jacket down enough to peek over the collar at the leather - it certainly was.

“Oh.” His voice was faint as he slid it down the rest of the way and gently deposited it back on top of Keith's bag. “So it is.”

“Mhm.” Pidge's look over the top of her glasses had his face heating involuntarily. “So, Shiro.”

Shiro definitely did not cringe away from the tiny terror. “Yes Katie?”

“It has come to my attention that you might be an idiot.”

Shiro cracked a grin at her as he rubbed the back of his head. “Can't get anything by you, can I?”

She rolled her eyes and punched his shoulder. “You know what I mean. What's going on with you and Keith?”

Shiro dropped his hands into his lap and shrugged. “Your friends are cool. I appreciate that he makes the effort to keep me company.”

Pidge rolled her eyes so hard Shiro thought she might sprain them. “You know, when Matt told me you were making progress I thought that somehow I wouldn't have to be involved in this anymore.”

Shiro sniffed, turning his face to the side petulantly, “I was going to ask for his number.”

“Hallelujah!” Pidge threw her hands up like an old-timey preacher. “The man is gonna do the bare minimum of friendship!”

Shiro screwed up his face at her in annoyance. “Sorry for trying to avoid running off your friends.”

Pidge leaned forward, planting her elbows on her knees as she blew out a breath. “Look Shiro, I gotta level with you... you don't have to worry about that. I only asked you to drive me here so I could get you guys to hang out. Lance and Hunk have been in on it since the first day.”

Shiro stared at her incredulously for a minute, opening his mouth and shutting it a few times before shaking his head, a little hurt. “Am I really that pathetic that you roped your friends into talking to me?”

Pidge slapped her hands to her face and groaned. “No, _you idiot_ , we put you two in the same place and let you see how compatible you were.” Shiro's pouting face remained unconvinced and she threw her hand out at him. “Look, you've gotten a chance to know him right?”

Shiro grumbled something potentially affirmative.

“And you still think he's both cool and somehow attractive right?”

His cheeks heated as the grumbling continued.

“Then why are you making this so difficult?”

Shiro sighed, long and drawn out. “I like him more and more as I get to know him.”

“And that's a bad thing?” Pidge squinted skeptically at him.

“It is when he hasn't shown any indication of interest outside of friendly courtesy.” Shiro curled in on himself a little and eyed her sadly. “I don't wanna get attached to someone if it's not gonna go anywhere.”

Pidge sighed as she scooted her chair over and wrapped an arm around Shiro's shoulders. “I know man, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” She gave a squeeze and tipped her head on his shoulder. “But if it helps, he's definitely interested in you - even if his resting bitch face and apathetic facade make it hard to tell.”

Shiro remained unconvinced but nudged her head with his own. “Thanks for trying Katie, but I think I'll be okay on my own if this is gonna go anywhere.” He paused, twisting his hands in his lap. “Do you still want a ride here then?”

She shook her head where it was wedged under his. “Nah, it'll be a lot quicker if I just come and go with Hunk.” With a pat on the knee she disentangled herself from him. “Thanks for coming this week though.”

He smiled and ruffled her hair. “Of course Pidgeon, any time you need anything.”

She scowled playfully at him and grabbed her laptop again, stuffing it into her bag. “Anyway, now that we've got this all sorted out there's no reason to be here today.” She caught sight of Keith making his way back through the crowd and waved him down. “Hey dude, we're actually all done, today was a false alarm.”

“O...kay?” He looked between Pidge packing up with forced cheer and Shiro's melancholy smile thoroughly confused.

They trudged back to the van in silence and Pidge hopped up into the passenger side, leaving Keith to slide into the back seat. The ride back home was punctuated by Pidge's aborted small talk and the radio crackling through on some classic rock station – by the time they pulled up to the apartment Keith practically flung himself out of the backseat to escape the stifling atmosphere. He threw his jacket back over his shoulder and waved at the van.

“See you later!”

Shiro raised a hand as he pulled away and Keith shuffled back up his front steps, a little disappointed he hadn't gotten a chance to get his number but still optimistic about Pidge's whole plan – until he walked into Lance and Hunk sitting in the living room, arms crossed.

“Keith, there you are.” Hunk gestured to the empty beanbag chair in the center of the room. “Have a seat.”

“Uh...” Keith dropped his bag and wandered over, plopping down and looking between the two stern faces. “What's up?”

Lance pulled out his phone and slid it across the coffee table in the middle of the three chairs. Keith cocked his head and pulled it closer to see a text from Pidge: 'Hey don't bother with next week, plan is off.' Keith whipped his head up to look between the disappointed faces of his friends.

“Why?”

Lance scoffed at him as Hunk's brow furrowed.

“I dunno Mullet, what did you do?”

Keith could only shake his head and wonder the same thing.

“I thought everything was going okay!” He protested, dragging a hand through his hair. “We have a lot in common, he'd be a really cool friend to have!”

Hunk threw his head back with a groan.

“Please tell me you haven't been punctuating every conversation with the term 'friend' or 'dude' or 'bro' when you've been on your long romantic walks.”

Keith's cheeks heated as he crossed his arms. “It's casual!” He scowled at Lance's gurgle next to him. “I didn't want to come on too strong!”

Lance pulled a sarcastic face in his direction. “Well it sounds like you didn't come on at all.”

“That's not true, I-” Keith wracked his brain for evidence of flirtation, coming up blank. Aside from saving him from the rando there had been plenty of discussion of space, and motorcycles, the people they'd met in their jobs, and they'd swapped funny stories... but nothing that he wouldn't have talked about with Lance or Hunk. “-Shit.”

Hunk gave him a flat look that had him scrambling to defend himself.

“I didn't even know this was the plan until today!” Keith glared at them, “Pidge had to tell me that the set-up wasn't going to be later so I thought this was all laying the groundwork!”

Lance let out another groan of agony, rolling his head back and slumping in his seat as Hunk held one hand to his face and the other outstretched.

“Buddy.” He lifted his fingers like a visor to level Keith with a look. “Did you think we wanted you to come to Killbot Royale just so we could shoo you away when we got there because we enjoyed your company on the drive?”

Keith hunched in on himself, muttering. “I was there to run errands too so you didn't have to miss anything...”

“Unacceptable.” Hunk lurched forward and grabbed Keith in a bone-crushing hug. “You're not our errand boy. If we didn't have ulterior motives we would have involved you in the fun.” He gave Lance a look over the dark mop of hair.

“Right!” Lance scrambled out of his chair, crushing Keith in a hug from the other side as he tried to wrap his lanky arms around Hunk. “We like having you around, even if you do have a Mullet.”

Keith snickered into Hunk's shoulder where he was slowly suffocating. “Thanks guys-” He mumbled into the fabric before tapping on Hunk's back. “-but I can't breath.”

Hunk let him go and patted him on the head as he gasped for air.

“So, what are you going to do now?”

Keith gave him a lost look before turning to Lance with a grimace. “Help?”

The smile that crept across his face was truly frightening as Lance pulled a notebook from under the chair and slapped it on the coffee table.

“Commence Operation: Keith Is Sentimentally Stunted - or KISS for short.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

Shiro pulled away from the curb and blew a breath out, turning to look at Pidge.

“Holy shit I made that awkward.”

Pidge grinned toothily at him as she nodded. “You kinda did.”

He sighed and turned back to the road, fighting a grimace as he glanced at her.

“Still, I've gotta do this myself. Even if I... don't have his number... shit.”

Pidge burst into full guffaws as Shiro realized his mistake. “I was waiting for that one as soon as he stepped out of the van.” She wiped at her glasses and eyed Shiro's resigned face. “Are you still sure you don't want my help?”

“Yes.” Shiro grunted, eyeing traffic as he turned down the highway. “It'll bug me if he's only being nice because of your scheming.”

Pidge conceded the point with a nod. “That's fair, but he really wasn't in on it. He's about as dense as a black hole when it comes to this sort of thing.”

“Good,” Shiro shot her a wry smile, “Then we're on even footing.”

Pidge snorted, gathering up her things as they turned onto her street. “Alrighty then.” She hopped out of the van when Shiro put it in park before turning to give him a serious look. “I'll be here if you need anything though, don't throw this away because you're stubborn.”

He opened his mouth to retort but found the door slammed in his face as his favorite gremlin skipped up the sidewalk to her house, waving before slipping inside.

Shiro shook his head and drove home, ready to collapse onto the couch after the surreal start to the day. Leaving the house he'd been ready to get Keith's number and maybe try to talk to him in a more private setting after Matt's pep talk, but then he'd been thrown for a loop with how willing Keith had been to scrap the entire day and stay home. Maybe he'd been strong-armed into the entire thing by Pidge... Shiro had certainly seen his fair share of that in the past, and he really didn't want to try to date someone who was only there out of some sense of debt or pity or... whatever else. Even if Pidge had sworn up and down that Keith had no idea of her scheming Shiro still found it a little suspicious that he had immediately been sent away from his friends that first day to go talk to someone who was a total stranger at the time. It was heavy handed misdirection at best.

He trudged into the house, throwing his keys in the bowl and toeing off his shoes before crashing onto the couch with a grunt.

“Shiro?” Matt's voice floated down the hall. “You're back already?”

Shiro twisted on the couch to give Matt a pointed look. “Ask Katie about how well her scheming went.”

Matt winced. “Ah shit, did she make it weird?” He knew first hand what his overzealous sister could do when she decided something needed to happen.

Shiro pried his arm out from under himself and grabbed the remote. “Not too bad, but she definitely had Keith there under duress somehow.” He turned on the sci-fi and rolled over to look at Matt. “To be honest I made it weirder once I found out...”

Matt made a thoughtful noise as he grabbed a bowl and package of microwave popcorn. “Well, that's kind of understandable.” He set the timer and leaned against the counter as it popped cheerfully behind him. “Nobody wants to feel like a pity date.”

“Exactly!” Shiro's eyes lit up, finally having it articulated for him. “What if he was only there so he didn't disappoint her?”

Matt nodded and snatched open the microwave as it neared the end of the count down. He hissed as he burned his fingers on the bag but plucked one out anyway and threw it across the kitchen for Shiro to catch in his mouth. “But what if he thought the same thing?”

Shiro tipped his head as he tried to catch another piece. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Matt began, crunching on his own handful before throwing another piece at Shiro, “Everyone knew you were there because you owed Pidge, right?”

“Well, yeah.” Shiro furrowed his brows. “But look at him, who in their right mind would consider hanging out with him a pity date?”

Matt shot Shiro a look that could've flattened the Earth.

“Oh yeah, a greasy skinny gearhead who works as a waiter and a mechanic - what a catch with his beat up leather jacket and mullet.” He threw his hands in the air dramatically, showering Shiro in popcorn as he continued, “He's so much cooler than the handsome and insanely beefy college professor who gets hit on literally everywhere he goes.” Shiro opened his mouth to protest but Matt steamrolled right over him, throwing himself on top of Shiro's legs as he clutched the bowl of popcorn to his chest. “You are so right. I can't even believe how I didn't see the imbalance before, clearly the broke, scrappy, scowling kid is so much more impressive than financial stability and a charming demeanor.”

Shiro grunted when Matt's bony ass dug into his kneecap as he shifted. “Alright, I get it.”

“Do you though?” Matt tossed a piece and hit Shiro between the eyes. “Cause it seems like you're just trying to protect your squishy feelings with a bunch of bullshit.”

Shiro slumped back against the couch, accepting his fate as Matt's new throne. “Maybe.”

Matt leaned over and poked his sternum, startling a wheeze out of Shiro. “So what are you going to do?”

“I... don't know.” Shiro furrowed his brows up at his best friend. “I don't have his number.”

“Get it from Katie.” The 'duh' was implied in Matt's tone.

Shiro's look was shifty as he edged a hand toward the popcorn bowl. “I can't do that.”

Matt slapped his hand away before tossing a piece into Shiro's mouth. “And why is that?”

Shiro sighed dramatically as he chewed with his mouth open in obnoxious fashion. “Because then Katie will win and I already said I don't need her help.”

“Ah.” Matt nodded at him in understanding. “That is an excellent reason...” He looked thoughtful for a moment before throwing another piece. “Can't you just go back to the drive-in?”

Shiro gave him a look as he caught the popcorn. “Uncool the first time you suggested it, still uncool now.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “It's not like you two don't know each other now, it's not gonna be as creepy.”

“Ha!” Shiro pointed at a confused Matt, “So you admit that it is creepy!”

Matt scoffed and grabbed another handful. “What's the worst that could happen?”

“Someone else overhears me ask and thinks it's okay and then he gets bombarded with other people asking and one of them is cooler than me and then they date and I was the one to set it in motion.”

Matt blinked at Shiro, clearly someone had some time to think about this already. “I'm not gonna touch that particular hangup you've got going on there.” He waved a hand lazily at Shiro's entire being. “But if you show up and get like... a milkshake to go or whatever and leave your number on the receipt it'll be up to him.”

“Huh.” Shiro looked contemplatively at Matt, as if realizing for the first time that he could give reasonable relationship advice. “That might do it.”

Matt smirked down at him. “I mean I am a genius.”

Shiro's snort nearly dislodged Matt from his legs, spilling popcorn over the couch as he squawked and tried to right himself with a scowl. Matt brushed the popcorn off, digging his ass bone into Shiro's shin with a grin before hopping off and dumping the bowl in the sink.

“You'll see Shiro, and then you'll have to make me your best man.”

Shiro huffed a laugh, successfully distracted from his moping as they settled down to watch a documentary on aliens.

 

They decided to put their plan into action a few days later to avoid the appearance of desperation. Since Keith had appeared to be working the evening shift last time they arrived right as the drive-in opened, not a soul in sight as they braved the tacky décor and made their way to the bar. The sound of laughter echoed from the kitchen as Lance slid out into the bar with a flourish, skidding to a stop and bracing himself against the counter with a smarmy grin before realizing who it was.

“Oh, it's just you guys!” He slumped into a much easier smile as he jerked a thumb back toward the kitchen. “Did you want me to get Pidge, or...?”

“Oh, no need.” Shiro cleared his throat and eyed the special board behind him. “We're just here to grab a milkshake, it was delightful last time.”

Lance eyed him for a second before nodding and grabbing the blender and some ice. “I suppose it's never too early to be thirsty.” His small smirk belied his innocent tone.

Shiro pressed his lips together and side-eyed Matt from where he had suddenly burst into a coughing fit. “We'll have the strawberry this time.” Just to be spiteful since Matt hated strawberries.

Lane nodded at him and fished around in the cooler before grabbing a pair of gloves and dicing up the fruit.

“Shame Pidge doesn't need a ride to the whole robot thing anymore.” Lance's tone was still light as he focused on not cutting his fingers. “It was cool meet you and all.”

Shiro half shrugged, “Yeah, you guys are cool too, don't be strangers.”

Lance dumped the cutting board into the blender with the ice cream and gave him a sharp grin.

“I know Keith especially will miss having someone to geek out with about space.”

Shiro kept his face remarkably impassive, save for the heat on the tips of his ears.

“Ah, yeah. Keith's great.” He coughed into this fist, eyeing Matt frantically.

“Speaking of Keith!” Matt cut in, “Does he always work the night and you're here early?”

Lance slapped the cover on and flicked the switch on the blender, yelling over the noise. “Usually. He works at the shop in the morning, which is why he's so gross when he comes in.”

Shiro had already known that, but the affirmation that he wouldn't be caught red handed creeping around his workplace made him feel a little better about the whole thing. He eyed his watch as Lance nodded along to the music in his own head before he flicked the blender off and swirled the contents around. Apparently satisfied he snagged a cup and poured it in before grabbing a spray can and hovering above.

“Whipped cream?”

Shiro shook his head and Lance shrugged, slapping a lid on and pushing the cup over as Shiro reached for his wallet.

“On the house.”

“Uh...” Shiro's brain stuttered for a moment as he glanced at Matt. Did he just ask for a napkin to write his number on now? Matt shrugged back at him and he turned to Lance with a smile. “Thanks, but you don't have to.”

Lance waved him off. “Nonsense, a friend of a friend is a friend of mine, right?”

Matt cocked his head at the warped phrase before giving up and patting the bar.

“Well, thanks Lance. Tell Katie I said hi, yeah?”

“Sure thing!” Lance shot a sly look at Shiro as he rinsed the blender. “Want me to pass on any messages for you too?”

Shiro choked on his sip of milkshake and flushed as he shook his head. “Er, just hello in general.”

Lance hummed and shrugged at him, “Suit yourself, come say hi again soon!”

Shiro waved backwards before they pushed out into the parking lot and he groaned loudly.

“Serves you right for getting strawberry.” Matt muttered from beside him, clapping Shiro on the shoulder. “We'll just have to make this a habit, then it won't be weird when you finally run into him, right?”

“I guess...” Shiro muttered, slurping the milkshake and grimacing at the brain freeze.

He tried to ignore the creeping feeling that Pidge was going to end up vindicated after all...

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

At this rate Shiro was definitely going to put on weight.

The Milkshake Scheme had consumed his morning routine but still hadn't yielded any results other than the urge to go to the gym more often. Initially he thought he'd fix this by insisting on paying for the milkshakes, surely Coran wouldn't argue with putting more money into the business, but he had soon realized that Lance and Hunk were no better allies than Pidge in his endeavors to stealthily woo their coworker.

Each day that first week Lance had asked seemingly innocent questions while offering sly tidbits about what everyone was up to – everyone being 95% Keith's business. Shiro had been cheerfully informed without asking that Keith's favorite animals were hippos, that he had the world's best dog, and that he would eat literally anything given to him.

The last fun fact of the day was delivered with a wink so over the top that Shiro was sure Lance's eye was going to stay stuck like that.

Even Hunk, who Shiro had initially thought would be his best avenue, was supplying subtle commentary slid in between their engineering discussions - Did Shiro know that Keith was also a mechanical genius aside from being a handy kitchen helper when there was chopping to be done? He did now. If Shiro ever needed anyone to give a glowing review of his best traits he was going to call up Hunk and put him on speaker.

The scheming halfling herself was obviously out of the question, and with the way she eyed every scrap of paper that Shiro touched he knew there would be no way to keep the three nosy coworkers out of it. Maybe if he gave Hunk a really sad face and asked him point blank to give something to Keith and only Keith, but he felt like that would be so obvious that Pidge would smell the suspicious package on him.

No, this would require patience and focus...

So here he was now, slowly shifting his arrival time later by about fifteen minutes each day so as to not arouse suspicion - at this rate he should cross paths with Keith in about two weeks. Hopefully he won't have forgotten about Shiro by then or found someone less socially awkward that wasn't half terrified of the four foot tall bipedal raccoon masquerading as a little girl. This whole thing would be much easier if he could just ask for Keith's phone number from one of them, casually of course, but he'd gotten so tongue tied between the smirks from Lance and Hunk and the ever-present glint of Pidge's calculating stare behind her glasses that he was now determined to do it himself.

Unfortunately for Shiro's waistline he and Matt had come to the conclusion that just walking in at the time that Keith would be working the evening shift was both too obvious and too risky. If he showed up far later than their initial established plan and Keith wasn't there Shiro would need some sort of plausible reason to be late, but if he showed up and Keith was there he'd have to find some reason to hang around until Keith had a free moment for the sole purpose of getting his phone number and... it was just entirely awkward.

But if he just sloooowly... happened to be there a little later each time... maybe until he could catch him in the parking lot and have a little chat... then who could really blame him for asking then?

Until then he would need to suffer his five minutes of penance each day while one of his three cheerful tormentors blended ice cream and smirked. The worst part of the whole thing was that he was lactose intolerant.

In the meantime he had tried to surreptitiously stalk Keith on social media, perhaps he could just go the easy route and add him on there, but all he could find was an instagram page that had pictures of a dog and some sketches with the name 'Thunderstorm Darkness' – which was not the kind of name that he wanted to add accidentally if he was wrong.

At least his days were relatively free until the semester began again, it gave him time enough to try to jog off the extra milkshakes and opened up a special time slot just for wistful sighing during his afternoon stroll. Really he had filled his days with only the most exciting things while he waited between ever later milkshakes destined to destroy his intestines.

Matt was starting to look concerned, which immediately had Shiro suspicious of pending joint Holt activity, but for now he helped keep track of the daily arrival time on the whiteboard they had hung on the fridge - and he had only joked about making a creepy conspiracy board once.

He was a good friend.

Potentially casual stalking aside, Shiro was pretty sure his current trajectory would land him firmly in Keith's orbit again... eventually.

* * *

Lance's daily updates on Shiro made Keith feel about as pathetic as possible with the way he looked forward to them, and judging by the smirk on his friends' faces he wasn't the only one that thought so.

The first time Lance had come home and casually passed along a hello from Shiro Keith had just about tackled him into the floor to get more details, but there wasn't anything more to it.

It wasn't necessarily heartening.

He had to admit that he thought that maybe by now he'd be back in contact with his dreamboat but the only respite he got from his totally not pining was the daily milkshake update and some instagram stalking.

There wasn't much he could do without swiping Shiro's number from Pidge, and apparently those two were in some sort of good natured power struggle that he wasn't willing to step into the middle of until he'd exhausted all his options – currently all he knew is that Pidge had grinned at him and suggested that she had been fired from Shiro's service temporarily but that 'they all came crawling back'. The obvious solution to their current communications blackout was Shiro coming to the drive in, but apparently the man only came in the morning and Keith tended to work the afternoon shift.

“You know he's only coming there to get to you right?” Lance elbowed him from where they were sprawled across the couch next to each other. Keith shot him a look and swatted at him in response.

“Right, that's why he's coming in exclusively when I'm not there.”

Lance shimmied upright and propped his chin on a hand as he eyed Keith speculatively. “Well Pidge and Hunk have a theory that he's creeping toward your shift.”

Keith's look intensified. “What is that even supposed to mean?”

Lance shrugged. “I dunno, he comes in a little later every day so eventually he'll run into you, right?”

“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.” Keith rolled his eyes and swatted at Lance's encroaching foot as it crept toward his space. “He probably just has morning errands.”

“I dunno man, it's like later by almost the same amount each time and he's all shifty-”

“Look,” Keith cut him off, “If this is the grand plan you guys came up with I might as well just go make a deal with the Devil.”

Lance sniffed with a wounded air. “I'm offended that you think I would be so uncreative.” He cracked an eye open at Keith and a sly smile slid across his face. “But your lover boy is as subtle as a sledgehammer.”

“Coming from you...” Keith mumbled with a smirk.

“Exactly! That's how you know it's bad.” Lance looked triumphant, entirely ignoring the jab. “Really though, unless you want to wait like a month for him to casually pretend he ran into you on accident you're going to need to make the first move.”

Keith let his head droop back onto the couch with a groan. “I know, that's why I asked you for help in the first place.” He rolled his head to side-eye his friend. “But somehow here we are still.”

Lance flapped his hand dismissively. “Well today is your lucky day, Hunk and I were talking about it earlier.” He leaned forward into Keith's space before bursting into jazz hands. “Gym stalk him.”

Keith looked at him flatly as Lance wiggled his fingers with vigor. “That's your big move? I don't even know when he goes.”

Lance dropped his jazz hands with a scowl as he pointed a bony finger in Keith's face. “First of all, ungrateful.” He tugged Keith's phone from his lap with lightning speed and tapped it, pulling up the incriminating evidence. “Secondly, you're full of shit.”

Shiro's instagram feed glared back at Keith from his own screen. Pages of posts tagged at the gym and the smoothie place nearby at the same times every morning. Shiro was one of those naive souls on social media who was both attractive enough to want to stalk and predictable enough to do it on the bare minimum of research. Really Keith should have thought of it sooner.

“So what am I supposed to do, get a membership at a gym specifically to stalk him? He's going to wonder why he hasn't seen me there before.” Not that he could really afford a gym membership right now anyway, he already worked out at the makeshift gym Kolivan had installed in the back of the shop.

Lance shrugged at him, tossing the phone back. “I didn't really get that far, but I'm sure if you show up all glistening and sweaty like you were that first day he won't think to ask.” He tapped his chin with a finger as he thought. “Or I guess you could just try to bump into him at the smoothie place.”

Keith's grimaced as he caught the phone and scrolled through Shiro's feed. “Why does he even come in to get the milkshake if he's already gotten the smoothie.”

“Some people are just extra thirsty.”

Keith scrolled through the pictures as he considered his options, attempting not to ogle as shamelessly as he normally did to preserve his tattered dignity. “What if I just jogged to the smoothie place, I'd still be all sweaty when I got there.”

Lance considered for a moment before twisting his face up. “Well depending on the line he might be in and out at any time during his usual posting window, you'd really have to catch him exactly or run up and down the block like a crazy person until you saw him and then run over all smooth.”

Keith deadpanned him, already plotting his running route. “I'm feeling pretty crazy.” He uncoiled himself from the couch and went to assess his option for running wear for the foreseeable future, leaving Lance to shove his fist in his mouth to muffle the cackles as he texted Pidge.

One idiot was going to be sneakily buying a milkshake a day, slowly creeping his time forward while the other would be sprinting the block for smoothies, both trying to 'accidentally' bump into the other.

They deserved each other.

 


	11. Chapter 11

It was day three of Keith's new running endeavor and he had regrets. What he and Lance had neglected to research was the actual area between the smoothie place and the gym in relation to their own apartment. Sure it was a decently small city, more of a town really, but that still meant that Keith either had to walk an extra three miles to start his questionably creepy activities or get someone to drop him off without telling them why. Lance was entirely out of the question in that department – Keith could just see him now, cruising slowly next to him as he jogged, like it was some bullshit Rocky montage that would be put on his twitter later... No.

He had ended up sucking it up and taking the walk.

This had of course meant that on the first day by the time he was actually jogging his legs were already tired and he was thirsty as all hell since he had forgotten to carry a water bottle with him. It had been a blessing in disguise that he hadn't seen Shiro on that attempt since he would probably have confused him with some dehydrated mirage and collapsed in the oasis of his eyes.

But today... today he was prepared. He had Lance's spandex booty shorts on with a stretchy belt that held his keys, a water bottle, and $10. The tank top that he brought was rolled up tight and wedged inside the belt as well, it was optional until he made it to the smoothie place itself, so he would be properly glistening should the need arise beforehand. He had even taken Lance's advice and tied his hair back, but not because a mullet wasn't an acceptable fashion choice – it was just less sweaty on his neck this way.

The morning dew was still chilling the air as he made it to the gym and stopped to stretch out his quads before taking off in a jog, careful to run with abs pulled tight just in case Shiro was still behind those tinted plate glass windows. The path itself was relatively quiet, not many busy streets to cross as he wound between skinny trees planted in the sidewalk and sandwich board signs that were just beginning to be set outdoors as the local businesses opened up. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and the morning breeze ghosted over his skin and ruffled his hair, bringing the scent of pastries on the wind. This might actually be a hobby that he could keep up in the early mornings – though probably without the three mile warm up walk beforehand.

Keith was enjoying the warm pull of his muscles as they loosened up when he turned the corner and spied another jogger in the distance. The other jogger was broad and muscular even from a distance, similarly shirtless with a backward cap on and Keith could feel his good mood curdling. From what he could tell he was running slightly faster than the other jogger, but if he ran into Shiro today then he didn't want any other buff shirtless pecs competing for his attention - he had to get ahead of him just in case. Keith grit his teeth and picked up the pace, lengthening his stride and letting his shoulders relax as he loped along the sidewalk slightly faster than advisable.

No musclebound frat bro was going to outrun him when Shiro was the prize.

What Keith neglected entirely to factor in was that the man in front of him may not be gay, that he may not run into Shiro at all today, and that he had to run quite the distance and then walk it back plus an extra three miles.

None of it mattered. Winning did.

The familiar competitive fire was stoked in him as his feet pounded the pavement, he was gaining on his prey. He made quite the sight, face twisted in concentration as his laser focus bore into the flexing shoulder blades and bouncing ass that was now visible through shiny basketball shorts as he drew closer. The more he saw of his competition the less he wanted Shiro to get a glimpse. His own tiny spandex shorts were the only things keeping him from swinging wildly about as he ran and the bottoms had ridden a good deal of the way up his ass while the top still hadn't managed to cover his hip bones. He could feel the sweat beginning to bead at his temples and trickle down through his pecs and abs before curving down the v of his hips to pool in the trail of hair dipping into the waistband.

None of it mattered. Not when his quarry turned another corner on Keith's route and Keith had a straightaway empty of trees and chalkboard signs to dodge as he opened the throttle further and tore down sidewalk. His mind was an animalistic mantra demanding he chase, catch, revel in his victory, prove his worthiness through athletic prowess... The sound of his sneakers slapping the concrete nearly echoed down the street as he bared his teeth and hurdled forward, grabbing the lamp post on the corner to sling himself around it without breaking stride.

“AUGH!”

Keith's body registered the shout before his mind did and he hurdled the bent over form on instinct, tucking into a roll as he hit the pavement in a half crumple and came up stinging and dazed.

“Holy shit man, what the fuck? Are you okay?” The voice was coming closer to Keith's adrenaline filled body as he stared blankly down at his hands and knees, now scraped raw and bleeding all down his shins and forearms.

“Uh.” He twisted his hands a little, watching the blood pooling on his palms and drip down his wrist. He shook his head to clear it. “Uh, yeah... sorry?” His pulse was still pounding in his ears. “Did I clear you?”

The voice let out a shaky laugh and a metal hand planted itself on Keith's shoulder. “Yeah, that was a hell of a jump but you could probably use-” The voice strangled off abruptly as Keith turned his head to stare dumbly at the hand. “-Keith?!”

Keith blinked at the hand as fingers tensed into his shoulder and he willed himself not to comprehend this reality.

Lots of people had metal hands, he would have noticed an entire arm.

Lots of people would have guessed his name was Keith right off the bat.

He turned his head and torso more fully around to find himself eye level with a giant bulge in shiny silver shorts.

Lots of people tucked to the left.

“Keith are you okay?” The hand moved from his shoulder to his face as it tipped his chin up.

Lots of people had beautiful eyes and a silver tuft poking through the back of a snapback. His eyes trailed down to Not-Shiro's arm where it was mostly concealed with a flesh colored sleeve to the wrist.

….Lots of people had a metal arm?

Shit.

“Heeeeey, Shiro.” Keith winced up at him, painfully aware of the hand cradling his face. “Fancy meeting you here.” He tried for a nonchalant smile but the effect was diminished by glaring smear of skin and blood on the sidewalk and his bony bits still dripping.

Shiro looked at him like he was crazy and gently tilted Keith's head around looking for wounds. “Do you think you have a concussion?”

Keith snorted, his heart rate starting to fall back into the rhythm of normal human beings. “No, just startled me.” He winced again as he tried to stagger to his feet. “I'll be fine.”

“Take it easy!” Shiro shot an arm out, hooking Keith around the waist and throwing an arm around his shoulder. He guided the stubborn bloody boy down to a nearby bench and sat next to him.

Keith grunted in thanks as he was lowered down and pulled the rolled up shirt from his belt, soaking it with his water and patting the blood off his arms and legs. “Motherfucker!” He hissed through his teeth before remembering he was calm, cool, and unaffected as he pushed a bloody palm through his bangs. The feeling of hair sticking to his lacerated palm made him want to gag. “I'm fine.”

Shiro let out a laugh of disbelief as his eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Keith I can practically see your shin bone.”

Keith gave him a half grimace and a shrug. “It always looks like that?”

“Right.” Shiro grunted as he took the shirt from Keith's hands and wrung it out before dabbing at a spot on Keith's arm. He fixed him with his best professorial look and Keith felt his soul wither up. “And why were you trying to break the land speed record around the corner?”

Keith felt his cheeks heat as he broke Shiro's stern gaze. “Well you see...” He trailed off, mental gears grinding uselessly against each other as Shiro continued to cradle his arm. “I was...” It really wasn't fair to expect him to come up with anything remotely plausible when avoiding Shiro's gaze meant that it dropped to the man's lap again.

Definitely tucked to the left.

Shiro's ministrations on his arms stopped as he poured more water onto the shirt and pulled Keith's leg into his lap. “You were what?”

Sweet Jesus. Keith was afraid to breathe lest he twitch his calf muscle that was firmly pressed where his eyes had been as Shiro worked the cloth over his shredded shin.

“Uh, running.”

The dabbing paused.

“Running... At breakneck speed.” Shiro voice was so incredulous that Keith flinched bodily.

“Uh...” Keith's eyes darted around frantically for an excuse to write itself on a nearby building. “Training!” Shiro narrowed his eyes and continued his dabbing as Keith struggled to find a complete sentence in his head. “For sprints.” Keith nodded once firmly, proud of himself.

Shiro shook his head with a sigh. “Try not to do it on the sidewalks where you might kill someone or yourself.”

Keith winced again and scratched at the back of his head. It's not like he could admit that he had been overcome by the primal need to run down and destroy the morale of the person who was currently tending his wounds so he could go off to impress... the person who was currently tending his wounds.

“Yeah... it wasn't the best plan.”

Shiro rumbled a chuckle that Keith felt up his leg. “Well it least it was me right? I've been hoping to bump into you anyway.” Shiro winked and shot him a cheesy grin as Keith let the terrible pun wash over him. This was the man that he was trying to woo, but he could give as good as he got.

“Well, Shiro...” Keith leaned back against the bench with a smirk, flexing his calf where it lay in Shiro's lap and pulling his arms up behind his head as he stretched his back, putting his bare torso on sweaty rippling display, spandex shorts pulled tight below his hip bones. “What should we do now that I've fallen for you?”

Shiro's hand clench so tightly around his ankle that Keith yelped and curled back forward.

“Shit, I'm sorry!” Shiro's face was beet red and panicked as he patted the ankle frantically before letting his hands hover over Keith's leg, eyes flicking between his face and body and Keith felt a twitch against his calf. “It must be malfunctioning.”

Keith didn't bother to point out that it wasn't his prosthetic that had squeezed.

“S'okay.” Keith shrugged and dragged his leg from Shiro's lap in a slow tease before swinging his legs down and testing the sting of the motion – not too bad. “I've had much worse.”

Shiro didn't look convinced but helped Keith to his feet anyway, hand ready to come back around to steady him at any time. Keith was pretty certain he would die on the spot if he felt that strong forearm curl around his bare skin again, he'd barely made it to the bench without an erection the first time, and these shorts were so small he would stick out the top if he tried to tuck up... No, he'd have to hobble on his own.

Shiro frowned at Keith as he tested his weight and planted his sticky palms on his hips, leaving red hand prints across the band of muscle there. “What are you planning to do now?” Keith looked up at him and shrugged, pink dusting across his cheeks.

“Go home I guess? I didn't really have much planned for today.” The blush and glance up through his lashes was a knockout combo for Shiro and he felt the crushing need to take care of this reckless man that had fallen into his lap after weeks of pining. It was a sign.

“Well, if you don't have to work I'd be happy to patch you up.” Shiro smiled at him and offered his elbow as he gestured down the block with his other hand. “I live right around the corner and you...” He trailed off, realizing just how far Keith was from his apartment.

“That'd be great!” Keith cut in, looping his arm through the proffered elbow. “Can I use your phone to call Lance to pick me up afterward now that I've derailed your plans?”

Shiro shrugged and fished it out of his shorts. “Go for it, but I'd be happy to bring you home too.”

Keith was tapping away on the phone as he shot him a smile. “Actually that'd be great, then I don't have to owe him a favor.” He handed the phone back to Shiro after a moment and swept his arm out ahead of them. “After you, kind Sir.”

Shiro huffed a laugh and snapped a sneaky picture of the smear Keith had left on the pavement, including one long leg and a mouthwatering stretch of torso and hip caught in the frame. He coughed as he pocketed his phone and pulled his hobbled companion closer, only half successful in squashing the giddy smile on his face.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Shiro's head was spinning beneath his totally cool facade. After weeks of semi-stalking Keith the man had quite literally come barreling into his morning routine and was currently clinging to his arm, uncharacteristically chatty as they hobbled down the street. It was all Shiro could do to keep his eyes at face level or on the sidewalk ahead of them.

It did help his composure a bit that Keith was still slowly oozing blood down his shins and dripping a small trail from his palms as they walked, but if he was in any pain it didn't show on his easy smile. Shiro had to wonder how often this sort of thing happened to him that becoming a skid mark on the pavement and limping home half naked didn't make him bat an eyelash. Regardless, he was glad that it had at least been him that Keith had tried to kill and not someone who might have left him in a heap or made it worse – it was only right that Shiro take him home and clean him up - anyone would do the same...

It's not like his massive crush played any part in the offer.

Sure he may have wrapped his arm around Keith's waist as he helped him up the stairs to his and Matt's apartment, but the man's knees probably hurt to bend – and if Shiro's hand lingered on the small of Keith's back while he jiggled the key in the lock it was only because he didn't want Keith to topple over backward.

He ushered his patient inside, herding him into a kitchen chair as he retrieved their medkit from the bathroom and tried his best not to ogle.

He plunked it down on the counter and snapped the lid open, pulling the contents onto the granite as he glanced up at Keith who was watching him with a small smile. “So we have... gauze that might be old?” He squinted at the slightly yellowed edges of the package before shrugging. “Gauze doesn't go bad.”

Keith snorted and dropped his chin into his bloody palm as he watched Shiro dig, leaving a streak across his cheek. “I'm really okay you know, Shiro.”

Shiro flicked another look up but continued his search. “I know you're tough, but you don't have to be all the time, right?” He pulled out the alcohol wipes with a thoughtful look, catching Keith's grimace and nudging him with an elbow. “Now none of that.” He gave Keith's slight pout a stern look in return, “You don't want anything to get infected.”

Keith was practically oozing his eye roll but didn't let it out and Shiro felt a tiny smug thrill at his acceptance. He snagged a soft wash cloth and dipped it under the faucet before stepping back around to Keith's side. Leaning into Keith's space Shiro couldn't help but notice the slight tremble in the man's body as he drew closer. Impossibly Shiro had forgotten that the visible chest and long legs meant that Keith was probably freezing now that he wasn't trying to set any land speed records, the dusky pebbled nipples were distracting.

“Oh, you're cold.” He made a half step away back toward the hallway, “I can grab you my sweatpants to borrow.”

Keith flushed and looked down as his tiny shorts, looking torn. “Oh... I'm fine...” He trailed off before getting a glint in his eyes and tilting his head at Shiro in a way that sent shivers down his spine, almost predatory. “Actually yes.” Keith sounded firm as he nodded at Shiro. “I would like a pair of your sweatpants, thank you.”

Shiro just barely avoided stammering at the sudden display of intensity as he backpedaled into his room and took a tiny breather against the door. He snagged his smallest pair out of the dresser, old and soft with years of use, and so threadbare Shiro wouldn't be losing much in terms of a view with Keith's change of attire. He padded back into the kitchen and picked his cloth back up again as he set the pants down on the counter.

“Let me wipe the blood off first or they'll stick.” Shiro murmured as he wiped the fresh sticky clots off Keith's knees.

Keith hissed, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the chair. “Can't we just slap a band-aid on?” He grinned weakly at Shiro's flat look as the man dipped a swab in alcohol again. “No?”

Shiro gave him a pat on the thigh before sliding the disinfectant over the scrapes. “Not unless you want to find out exactly what color staph turns.” He made quick work of the rest of the mess, centering the gauze gently and wrapping the tape with practiced ease as he ignored Keith's grumbles. “There, see?” He pulled back with a smile and held out the sweatpants. “Good as new.”

Keith gave an experimental bend to his knee and leg wraps before shrugging and snagging the proffered clothing. He slid off the stool with only a little grimace and moved to pull the pants on, stilling when he looked at his sticky hands.

“Uh...” He flicked a look from the two red-brown finger marks on the waistband in his fingers up to Shiro's face. “Sorry?”

Shiro huffed a laugh as he plucked the pants back from Keith and knelt before him. “Nothing peroxide won't take out.” He spread the waistband open for Keith to step into and looked up at his face with an easy smile. “I got it.”

Keith sucked in a breath and wobbled as he lifted his foot, steadying himself with a sticky hand on Shiro's bare shoulder as he stepped in slowly, and Shiro realized how badly he had miscalculated. His thumbs skimmed Keith's bare thighs as he pulled the sweatpants up past the bandages, the hard muscle twitching minutely under his touch. He could barely tear his face from Keith's tiny black shorts as he covered the last inch of them and rolled the hem of the pants, still hanging loose under the deep v of Keith's hip bones. All things considered, Shiro thought he was holding it together admirably until he reached for the drawstring to tie a tight bow and made the mistake of testing a look up into Keith's face.

Crimson cheeks and wide eyes with blown pupils stared down at him from above his parted lips. Shiro could hear him blow out a shaky breath as his own cheeks darkened to match, fingers clumsy and grazing as he tried to tie off the bow. He doesn't know if he imagined the twitch underneath his knuckles or not.

Shiro was frozen in place by Keith's dark eyes as his hands dropped from the strings to rest on lean hamstrings. He could hear the click of Keith's throat as his adam's apple bobbed, tongue sweeping his lower lip before a canine sunk in deep.. One skinned palm came up and hovered next to Shiro's cheek for a moment, close enough that he could feel the heat and smell the tang of blood coming off it.

“Shiro...” Keith's voice was rough in the quiet and Shiro felt tension sing through him, pulling his body taught as he bit his own lower lip.

“Keith?” His own voice came out like gravel and drew a visible shiver from the man in front of him, goosebumps erupting on his bare chest. Shiro tipped his head further up and tucked his toes, ready to stand as Keith dipped lower, abs flexing. He could feel warm breath rustling his bangs as they gravitated toward each other and his eyes began to drift shut.

 

_BANG_

 

“Shiro, you will not believe the day I-”

Shiro jerked his head forward in surprise, smashing his face into Keith's crotch with a yelp. The younger man crumpled instantly with a howl of his own as a knee came up in reflex and glanced off Shiro's temple. Blinding pain erupted in the side of his head and he flailed a hand out, catching the roll of bandages on the counter and yanking them onto the floor with a clatter as all the antiseptic bottles followed. Shiro hit the ground with them, clutching his head as Keith went down in a groaning heap on top of him.

Matt stood in the doorway speechless as he took in the bloody hand prints, medical equipment, and half naked men – one cupping his dick with a whine while wearing obviously too large sweatpants, and the other clutching his head and whimpering.

“Guys?” He received only groans of pain in response as he stepped hesitantly into the kitchen, brows furrowed. “If this is some weird kinky medical play gone wrong...”

Shiro cracked one eye open, still squinting in pain. “Shut the fuck up Matt.”

Matt held up his hands in surrender and put down the antiseptic ointment he'd been eyeing suspiciously. “I'm just saying I don't think this is that kind of ointment.”

Shiro let out what could only be described as a snarl as he made to stand. Matt snickered and danced out of reach, heading down the hall before Shiro could make good on his murderous rage. “I'll tell you about my bad day later then!” He called backward over his shoulder and shut the door.

Shiro slumped against the kitchen island with a groan before Keith's whimper had him reaching over and settling a hand on his hip. “Hey, you okay?”

The sharp intake of air that let out with a sound like a pinched balloon was less than reassuring. Shiro managed to open both eyes against the throb in his temple to assess the damage on the already beaten man. It didn't look good.

Keith's hands had yet to leave their protective cupping as he curled in on himself and breathed in wheezy gasps, his palms had left a lovely red-brown smear to frame the crotch of the sweatpants. The fresh bandages on his one knee were already staining again from where it had connected with Shiro's skull and reopened, but that was most likely a lost cause anyway. Shiro sighed deeply and grabbed an errant bottle of painkillers off the floor from where it rolled by his feet, swallowing two dry and leaving two for Keith when he regained coherency. His hand planted itself on Keith's back, still curled up next to him, and he rubbed soothing circles into the knobs of the trembling spine.

They sat like that for several minutes until Keith sounded less like a chew toy when he exhaled and Shiro offered out the pills. Keith snatched them from his hand, grimacing at the iron taste on everything he touched as he shot Shiro a despondent look.

“Sorry bout your head.” He muttered as he pulled himself into a seated position next to Shiro's slumped form.

Shiro snorted and gave him a wry smile in return. “Sorry bout your dick.”

Keith shrugged, forcing down a wince and hysterical giggle as he grabbed a set of alcohol wipes and finally cleaned off his palms. He held them out for Shiro to wrap with a half grimace, “I've beaten it worse in the last month.”

Shiro nearly choked on his tongue and shook his head with a grin as he set to work wrapping up Keith's battered palms in silence.

“There.” He looked up through his lashes at Keith as he secured the end with a strip of tape. “All better?”

Keith looked down at him with a soft smile as he nodded and leaned his head against Shiro's shoulder with a sigh. “What a fucking day.” Shiro nodded against his mop of hair.

Matt poked his head of out his room with a saccharine smile. “Are we done patching up?”

Shiro closed his eyes and thumped his head back against island.

“Holts...”

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

Keith doesn't know whether to kill Matt Holt or himself, either would be satisfying at this point. Shiro had gotten off the floor to fidget around behind him while Keith continued to slump, wallowing in the knowledge that technically Shiro had touched his dick today, albeit in a painful and secondary way.

At least he had the consolation prize of these sweatpants that Shiro was never ever getting back, especially since the crotch was all stained now and the knee was bleeding through.

Oh well.

He could hear the fridge opening and the rustling over his head on the other side of the counter as Shiro bustled around the kitchen.

“Want some cocoa?” A silvery head poked around the corner of the island, mug wiggling in hand as Shiro flashed an enticing grin.

Keith gave him a nod and a grateful smile in return, resting his head back and closing his eyes as Shiro's head disappeared and the faucet turned on behind him. At this point he'd take any excuse to stay here a little longer and bask in Shiro's presence. Two weeks of pining after a guy he'd barely managed to scratch the surface of had been both a challenge to beat and a curiosity to satisfy, but the more time they spent together the more Keith actually wanted to be real friends with Shiro. Lance had called him the world's pickiest slut a time or two, 'always thirsty but never drinking from the tap' but Keith had always contended that he didn't want to risk catching anything from someone who is wasn't going to be worth the oozing pustules later. The visual usually shut Lance up pretty quick. Besides, he was pretty sure that Shiro wouldn't be giving him any oozing pustules, especially if he was so keen on disinfecting wounds properly.

Keith flexed his bandaged hands as he stared at the gauze and tape, remembering how gently Shiro had cradled the shredded skin as he applied the ointment on his palms. He can't remember the last time someone other than his friends had cared about his well-being, and even they were used to Keith coming around with various scrapes and scabs from his work at the shop. But Shiro was genuine in everything he did and selfless to a fault it seemed, and for a moment Keith was absolutely sure that he was going to kiss him.

Which brought back the original dilemma...

Currently he was leaning toward killing Holt. He'd only met him a handful of times at the diner, but from what he'd gathered from the skull to his dick at Matt's explosive entrance and his utter lack of remorse afterward... he might have to apologize to Pidge for killing her second favorite brother. Shiro of course could remain alive as her current favorite to ease the sting of loss, he wasn't a monster after all.

Besides, he was feeling generous. His plan had worked so well – bloodied limbs aside – Shiro's eyes had lingered far longer than bro-propriate on his body and Keith couldn't help but preen. He'd have to report back to Lance that 'crazy' had worked better than expected, maybe leaving out the whole chasing strangers down like a maniac part since it wasn't really relevant anyway. The deviation from Shiro's smoothie routine had been a godsend, not only getting Keith access to his apartment but also the opportunity to surreptitiously put his contact info into Shiro's cell under the guise of calling Lance – not that Keith would ever actually call Lance in this situation, he'd rather walk the tattered miles home than have to sit in the car for even a second while Lance gave him that insufferable look.

Shiro interrupted his musings with a steaming mug of cocoa under his nose.

“Careful, it's hot.”

Keith hummed at him in thanks as he wrapped his bandaged palms around the mug and let the heat soothe them. Shiro wedged himself back onto the floor to slouch against the counter with him, it couldn't have been comfortable for a man his size but Keith appreciated the gesture – with his balls still aching he wasn't really keen on moving from the floor. He eyed the man appreciatively over the rim of his mug as Shiro shifted to get comfortable before picking up his own mug. They were both still shirtless and the flex and pull of back and arms as Shiro twisted about made Keith's mouth water more than the aroma of hot chocolate. He pulled the mug in closer to his own chest to feel the heat radiate off it, ducking his head to hide his ogling as Shiro finally settled in.

“Cozy?” Keith felt the question rumble into him where their arms grazed, their forearms nearly pressed together in the small space under the lip of the counter. Shiro's face was so earnest that Keith wanted to drop the mug and pull him in for a snuggle.

Soon.

He settled for smiling back at Shiro and taking a sip, biting down the wince when his tongue burned instantly. “It's perfect.”

Shiro beamed at him and took his own sip, totally placid in the face of scalding water. Keith's heart melted a little more as Shiro shifted a tiny bit closer and ducked his head into the mug, shooting Keith a sidelong look.

“So, today wasn't so bad, all things considered?”

Keith blew across the top of his mug and huffed. “Nah, I can think of worse ways to spend an afternoon.” He nudged Shiro's elbow with his own and gave him a playful scowl. “But don't get the idea that you can touch my dick the next time we hang out just because you got to today.”

Shiro sputtered into his mug, coughing it down his front as his cheeks heated to an adorable shade of pink. “I'll be on my best behavior.” He swiped the spilled cocoa down his chest and bit back a giggle as he tapped on his bruising temple. “But you really made an impression in my mind.”

Keith groaned and slid further down the island cabinet, rolling his eyes until he thought they might pop out of his head. “I forgot you had the world's worst sense of humor.”

Shiro nudged Keith's arm as he slid downward, clearing his throat with a shy look. “So, about that next time.” His hands fiddled with the mug as he stared resolutely at the cocoa within. “You want to uh... hang out more often?”

“Are you serious?” Keith blurted out as he scrambled back upright, careful not to jostle his sloshing liquid.

Shiro winced and eyed the exposed bandages. “Well, yeah. Hopefully without the dramatic injury first.”

Keith nodded at him with a bright smile as he reached over to pat the inside of Shiro's knee. “I'd love to hang out with you Shiro.” He grabbed his mug again to take a sip, not wanting to seem over eager. A glance up through his lashes confirmed Shiro was beaming back down at him. “But no promises about being uninjured.”

Shiro leaned into his space a little, wrapping a companionable arm around Keith's shoulder and tugging him in as he tipped his own mug back. “Well, I'll just have to keep my kit stocked.”

His smile sent butterflies rioting through Keith and he turned his face into the embrace, his cheek grazing Shiro's bicep.

“I guess I'll have to be around enough to make it worth your while then...” Keith murmured, the corner of his mouth curling as he nuzzled against the muscle under his cheek. His heart was beating double time and there was no danger of being headbutted in the nutsack - this might be the perfect moment.

Shiro leaned lower, fingers curling around Keith's far shoulder and voice dipping into a rumble. “You can come as much as you like.”

Keith's mouth curled further into a smirk as he set his mug down and brought one gauzy hand to Shiro's cheek. “You've got a little something...” He swiped his thumb above Shiro's upper lip, smearing away the cocoa before bringing it to his own mouth to suck off the sweet residue. He had to bite down his victorious grin as Shiro's eyes blew wide and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Keith.”

Hands drifted back to that chiseled jaw as Keith twisted sideways and drew himself up until he could cup Shiro's face at eye level. “How long are you gonna make me wait Shirogane?”

His challenging eyebrow spurred Shiro to action and a pair of hands welded themselves to Keith's hips, dragging him fully into Shiro's lap as he ducked down to Keith's mouth, lips hovering millimeters apart before they both froze, wary of impending Holt.

Ten seconds without a sign of Matt had Keith leaning forward just enough to graze Shiro's plush bottom lip once, twice, before slanting his mouth fully over Shiro's with a groan. An answering breath shuddered out of Shiro as he nipped Keith's lip and kneaded his fingers into muscled hips, easing the sting with soft kiss. It was all Keith could do not to whimper into Shiro's mouth at the feeling as he drifted one hand to cradle the back of Shiro's head, the other dragging down his chest to palm over a pebbled nipple. Shiro jerked at the sensation, head thudding back into the island and hips bucking as his mouth parted in a gasp. Keith's grin pressed against his mouth harder for an instant before he took advantage and licked into Shiro's mouth, running a thumb deliberately against Shiro's chest this time as he settled his hips firmly around the body beneath him.

“Oh fuck-” Shiro groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest and into Keith's own. His hands slipped under the sweat pants to knead at the spandex, his thumbs dipping into the waistband to rub the length of Keith's hipbones as he felt the lean muscle writhing above him. “Fuck, Keith...”

Keith whined at his wrecked tone as his hand caught in Shiro's bangs and tugged, drawing a gasping moan as he trailed kisses down the column of Shiro's neck. The grip on his hips was driving him to distraction as he rolled them down. He tried to shuffle closer on his knees before jerking back with a hiss at the forcible reminder of his earlier stupidity. “Dammit!”

Shiro blinked up at him for a second, bewildered before looking down at Keith's knees with a grimace. “C'mere.” He coaxed Keith to swing one leg over to sit sideways on his lap as he cradled his back with a strong arm and dropped a lingering kiss on Keith's forehead.

Keith's cheeks heated rapidly as he came back from the moment, unable to ignore Shiro's considerable problem underneath his thighs, or his own tented and borrowed sweat pants. “Uh... hi.” He ducked his head and grabbed his mug back off the floor, desperate for something else to focus on.

Shiro chuckled behind him, squeezing him tighter to his chest and resting his temple on Keith's head. “Hi.” He nudged Keith's cheek with his nose until he got a brow wrinkle of acknowledgment. “So, friends then?”

Keith's blush was going to be permanent as he nodded into his mug with a smile. “Something like that.”

“AHA!” Matt kicked his door open, making them both startle. “Fucking on the kitchen floor!”

Keith twisted to cock an eyebrow at him before leaning more heavily into Shiro's chest. “Why didn't you tell me Shiro? I would have put my cocoa down.”

Shiro barked a laugh and wrapped his arms around Keith's waist, holding him tight as Matt looked at them in disbelief. “And you said my jokes were bad.”

 

“And THAT-” A mildly inebriated Matt shouted as he clutched a swaying Lance's shoulder, “-is how THESE two idiots FINALLY got together.” He threw an accusatory finger at the couple seated next to him.

Keith had his face buried firmly in one hand as he grumbled into Shiro's shoulder. “Why did we let them give the Best Man speech together?” Shiro's laugh shook through his chest as he felt the weight of a kiss press into the crown of his hair and couldn't help but relax against him.

“Because even if they are idiots, they're our idiots.” Shiro whispered against his hair.

Keith snorted, uncovering his face and tipping his chin up to watch his new husband. Shiro's purple button down and black vest was a devastating combination and it caught Keith's breath in his throat every time he looked at him. It was almost unbelievable how far they had come from those early days to where they were now... two cats, a dog, and a handful of found family members later in a little house they had bought together just last year. Shiro had proposed right at Keith's graduation ceremony, prompting the man that most people knew as a stoic loner to burst into tears and throw himself into their Professor's arms. It had been the buzz of the campus for the entire next fall semester, but Shiro had kept tight lipped about wedding plans, wanting Keith to feel comfortable in their new home and his role as the manager of Kolivan's shop before overwhelming him with ultimately unimportant details.

He was pulled from his happy musings by a pair of lips trailing his ear and a strong thumb rubbing circles into the back of his neck. Shiro's burning gaze dipped to his own red shirt and vest before dragging back up to his eyes. “Isn't it about time for us to kiss?” His tone was magma poured over Keith's skin.

Keith swallowed against the rising heat in his chest as he shifted closer, smile brushing Shiro's own. “They aren't banging any glasses, love.” He gasped at the sudden nip to his earlobe as Shiro ducked his head down.

“I'm going to be banging something soon enough either way.”

“Oh my god!” Keith barked a laugh as he slapped Shiro on the chest. “Your sense of humor hasn't gotten any better.”

Shiro twirled a lock of inky hair at Keith's nape. “Wasn't joking.” His grin was teasing as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Keith's nose. “Later.” Keith's stuttered breath was response enough.

“Uh, gross.” Pidge elbowed her way between them to refill their champagne flutes. “Your parents are like right there.” She shot them both a look as they eyed each other sheepishly. “And my poor virgin eyes are right here.”

Keith hooted at her comment and unceremoniously plopped her on his knee, ignoring her squirming. “I'm telling Hunk you said he's impotent.” She squawked in indignation, twisting to poke him as Shiro took the opportunity to dart forward and dig his fingers into her sides.

“Mercy! Hunk!” She screeched, wheezing as she was trapped between them. “Shiro what about blood!”

Shiro shrugged as he continued his assault. “Sorry Katie, I took a vow.”

Keith beamed at him over Pidge's giggling flails. “Aww, baby.”

“Alright, alright.” Hunk wandered over, deftly snatching Pidge from their clutches and planting her on her feet before tucking her into his side. “No making her piss herself.” Pidge looked up at him with a smug grin. “We took my car and the upholstery- ow!” He winced as she stuck her tongue out at him, her tiny elbow did quite a bit of damage when aimed properly. He shrugged at Keith and Shiro as she trailed away. “Can't win them all.”

Keith snickered at their retreating forms and Shiro couldn't help but sigh out through a sappy grin. It really had been everything he ever wanted, even with the unorthodox start. He couldn't wait to hop on the plane to their honeymoon tomorrow morning, but first...

“Hey, Mr. Shirogane?”

“Hmm?” Dark eyes filled with adoration looked curiously up at him.

“Do you wanna grab a milkshake after this?”

Keith huffed a laugh and grabbed Shiro's hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

“Mr. Shirogane, I'd love nothing more.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand that's a wrap!  
> Thanks especially to fbmstar, Kat & Emi_The_Ninja for making me smile like an idiot when I checked my email each day after posting! <333


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